


Vienna

by iwritewhenimhappy



Series: In Your Veins [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Death, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Head Injury, Holidays, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Makeover, Memories, Mental Health Issues, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Seizures, Sexuality Crisis, Underage Drinking, Wakes & Funerals, Weapons, anger issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-05-28 06:49:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 23,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19388728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwritewhenimhappy/pseuds/iwritewhenimhappy
Summary: Steve is dead. He paid the ultimate price in order to keep their world safe, and now Billy and the others are left to pick up the pieces. But moving on isn't always what it's cracked up to be, and Billy can't help but feel like Steve isn't really gone... Or maybe he's just losing his mind.





	1. "Nobody Knows 'Bout The Trouble I've Seen."

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this last year, but stopped and deleted it form AO3, deciding to leave this series the way it was but some time has passed and partly because Stranger Things Season 3 is coming out so soon, I've decided to continue it. Please feel free to leave me a comment. They encourage me. <3  
> Every chapter is based off of a sentence starter, a Billy Joel lyric. I found the list on tumblr but have since then lost it. If anyone finds it, please comment the link. :3  
> Enjoy.

**_ May 9th 1985 _ **

The snow squishes under her feet as she walks along the street toward the diner. Her jacket is held in her hand loosely as the sun beams down and causes sweat to drip from her pours. It was freezing this morning but now in the afternoon sun it’s as warm as a summer’s day even though it’s not yet that season. It’s still Spring but June is fast approaching and pretty soon it will be summer. Summer with its cool beer and fresh water to swim in and cool off. The light breeze in the morning that makes it possible to take a sweet morning jog. The full sun and long days that come of it that makes the hot weather bearable. Oh, she can’t wait.

She’s only been in Hawkins for almost a year but so far it’s been more of a home than anything else. She loves the quiet town, the patient atmosphere, and the smiles from the small town folks who trust each other- and now her explicitly. That’s what small towns are all about and the air, oh the air is so fresh and clean. It’s nothing like the city smog that she’s gotten used to over the past twenty years. It feels so good to be here and she would never want leave, and the kids, oh they’re lovely kids. She’s so glad that she got this job, everything about her new life is wonderful. She only wishes it could stay that way.

“Excuse me.” She says as she passes by the young man sitting on the curb. His hair is short and wiry, his eyes dark and painful. It’s so piercing and heart wrenching in that one look he gives her that she can’t help but stop in the middle of her tracks. She knows who he is of course, but still, she’s never seen him up close like this, not really. It’s painful to look at him and she feels a bolt of pity and sympathy for him. She looks at him sincerely before looking up to the diner only a few buildings down and remembers how hungry she is, but then she looks back at him, and what kind of person would she be if she ignored him? Ignored this?

“Hello.” She says politely, stopping to look down at the young man. He doesn’t look up at her again but grunts in acknowledgement. “Everything okay?”

She leans down to get a better look at him and then she sees it. It’s shiny and sleek, black and dangerous in his hands. He holds it close and almost strokes it with reverence. She feels a strike of fear go through her, but not for the reason any normal person would feel it. Self-preservation, the fear for what he will do to others. No. She feels this fear for him, for what he’s going to do to himself and she can’t help but feel partially responsible. This is a small town and she’s part of it. They all are. How can he feel so desperate to think of such a thing when so many are around to help him? But then again no one can or rather will help him in the ways that he needs. They’re all too afraid she’s sure. How else can it be?

“That might not be the best idea.” She says to him, nodding towards the gun.

“It’s the only one I’ve got left.” He answers in a hoarse whisper and her heart goes out to him in that moment.

“Oh, no, I’m sure there are other ideas. Other ways.” She says to him but he either didn’t hear her or doesn’t acknowledge it as he remains silent and stoic. She wants to reach out to him, to help, to heal, but there’s only one thing she can do. She puts her coat out on the slushy sidewalk and sits down on top, right next to the young man. She would put her hand out to him but that wouldn’t be right. Besides he looks like the type that hasn’t had much mothering, much affection in his life, something she can understand and knows how to deal with so she doesn’t reach out. Instead she leans down and makes it so his eyes meet hers. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? Maybe telling a stranger is easier and will help? After all how strange and horrible can it be?”

He smirks. “You’d be surprised.”

“Then surprise me.” She replies.

“Nobody knows ‘bout the trouble I’ve seen. Nobody gets it.”

“Well, maybe I can.”

He looks to her doubtfully but she only smiles reassuringly and waits. He doesn’t say anything for a long time but she’s patient and good at pretending she’s not hungry when she is. Years on the streets will give you that ability, not that it’s something she should be quite proud of, but it is how it is. She doesn’t like to think about it though, not when she has it so good now. For right now she likes to focus on what she can do to help, to make things better for others so that they know there’s someone there for them. Someone who will bat in their corner. After all, she’s never had that herself and in turn never wants anyone else to go through that either.

“How about you start by telling me your name?” She prompts as she looks at him, still waiting. She doesn’t say that she already knows his because he needs to tell someone and she doesn’t want to seem nosy or like she already knows him. Something tells her that he would not accept the whole ‘small towns where everyone knows everyone’ explanation. He seems he’s too smart for that. Well, not smart but like he’s seen a lot of crap and not much gets past him now. She can understand that too.

“I’m Billy.” He breathes out in a rush as he grips the gun tighter. “Billy Hargrove, and I don’t know what to do.”


	2. "Advice Is Cheap, You Can Take It From Me."

**_ September 23rd 1984/August 30th 1984 _ **

The thing about losing someone that no one tells you is that you don’t just lose them once, you lose them over and over again. In different ways in different moments you will lose them over and over, and it never stops. A sweatshirt draped across a chair, the one he wore when he first met him, those lips that he would never touch again. The much overplayed VHS of ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory’ that he would watch again left in the VCR paused at that one point where they had to stop because they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. The beer opener he got him for a late eighteen birthday present and how there would never be anymore presents from him. How Steve has lost the right to ever have a birthday again. No one told Billy that he would lose him and over in different ways forever afterwards. No one told him that it would be this hard. No one told him that loving someone would be this awful.

Billy likes to think about his life where he ignored Maxine and never went to that stupid gym to see Steve. He likes to think of his life where him and Steve never sucked each other off under the bleachers and from then on never could get enough of each other. He likes to think of his life where that didn’t happen, where they ignored each other and he stayed blissfully in the dark about the Upside Down and how there’s so much more out there in the universe he never wanted to know about. He likes to think of this life and how much easier it would be if he never let Steve get under his skin, but as much as he thinks about it he can never bring himself to wish for it. He can never ever wish to not have known Steve the way he did, to feel his love and to love in return.

It’s so painful and impossible, like he’s running into a brick wall day after day, exasperating already made injuries but despite it he would never ever give up one moment they had together. He would never wish for them to never known each other the way they did. He can never bring himself to regret any of it. If there was a button to take him back and erase this hell he wouldn’t do it. God help him, he can’t, and that pisses him off. It makes him far angrier than he should be. Why can’t he just go back? Why can’t he fix things? Why can’t he make it right? Why can’t Steve be here? With him? It’s not fair. It’s not fucking right.

How can the universe or whoever the fuck is out there give him this beautiful, amazing gift, the best thing that’s ever happened to him and then just take it anyway? How is that fair? How is that just? But then, maybe it’s not the universes fault, maybe it’s his, because he did this, didn’t he? He wasn’t there for Steve. He didn’t speak up for him sooner. He didn’t help him when he should have. He just let things get worse and worse, and he did nothing. Maybe this is all his fault. In the end he made the choice. He practically shoved the knife in himself, didn’t he? DIDN’T HE!?

Billy throws the plate he’s washing in his hand across the room and watches it splatter against the wallpaper into pieces. It slides to the floor and makes a crashing sound that’s deafening and so unbelievable satisfying. Billy can’t help but pick up a cut next, then another, and then one more plate. He picks up all of the wet soapy dishes out of the sink one at a time and throws them over and over against the wall. He watches them splinter and break. He watches the pieces pile on the floor broken and dead. He wills them to get up and put themselves back together again but that’s not how it works. That’s not how life works, and why can’t it? Why do good, the best people out there have to go? To leave? To be taken? How is that right? How is any of it?

Billy walks past the dishes, not bothering to pick them up as he makes his way to the phone that blares annoyingly in the usually deafeningly quiet house. He puts the receiver into his ear and waits for the caller to say something because if not he’ll just hang up. He’s tired of Nancy and Jonathan’s calls from their great new lives in California, living the college dream, a dream that Steve will never have now. He hates their happiness with a passion and bitterness that feels like crunching teeth. They’re together, they get to be happy, and after everything they’ve done- did to Steve. It’s fucked up. It’s- Fuck.

_“Hey, Billy.” Nancy says in a quiet voice as he answers the door. Jonathan’s right next to her, a hand on her shoulder almost like a steadying weight. Her mother’s funeral was yesterday, today is Steve’s. If Billy wasn’t so full of anger he might feel bad, but as it stands though he can’t find that within himself right now._

_“What?” Is his quick reply._

_“Are you ready?”_

_“For what?”_

_She looks up sharply. “For the service.”_

_“I’m not going.” He tells her and the only thing keeping him from slamming the door in her face is Steve. It’s like he’s right next to him saying, ‘She’s my friend.’ He sounds so real and Billy knows he wouldn’t want him to treat Nancy too harshly._

_“Billy you have to come. You can’t just bury your head in the sand you didn’t go to the others-”_

_“Don’t you dare lecture me, Wheeler. Now get out of here.”_

_“Billy let me give you some advice-”_

_Billy cuts her off before she can continue once again. “Advice is cheap, you can take it from me. Now get the hell out of here.”_

_He doesn’t even wait to see her reaction as he finally gives into the impulse of slamming the door in her painted face. Almost immediately he closes his eyes and tries to breathe, but then there’s her taunting words that she yells to him through the door that penetrate his mind like bullets. “This isn’t even your house, Billy! And fuck you too!”_

_“Nancy come on.” Billy hears Jonathan try to say to her but she won’t hear it. She just keeps on yelling, telling him off for everything wrong in all of their lives. Maybe she blames him like he blames her. Either way, he doesn’t want to hear from her again. He goes to the kitchen with that thought in mind and takes the phone off of the receiver._

_It takes him a month to put it back on._

“Hello?” Billy practically barks into the phone.

“Hey, man.” Dustin. “Can you pick us up? We’re at the theater and my mom got stuck in traffic in town. Pleeeaasse?”

Billy rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

How can he say no?


	3. "Some People Just Don't Have A Heart To Be Broken."

**_ August 29th 1984/September 27th 1984  _ **

_“Billy, is it?” Mr. Harrington asks as Billy opens the door to the Harrington house. The funeral is tomorrow and Billy knew that Steve’s dad would try to make it but after all of the other promises he’s made to his son being broken, he wasn’t holding out much hope, and yet, here he is. He’s taller than Billy would have thought, much taller than Steve and himself. His eyes are dark but there’s a boyish tint in the curve of his lips that reminds him of Steve. How he smiles, how he talks, it leaves a painful lurch in his chest that Billy tries to ignore as he moves out of the way for the man to come in._

_“Yes, sir.” Billy answers as they both make their way into the house and then the kitchen. Billy holds out a hand to point to an empty chair and he regrets it just as he does it. He’s acting like this is his house and Mr. Harrington is a guest when in reality it’s the other way around. It makes him freeze in embarrassment and indignity as he realizes how little of a hold he has here. This is Steve’s. This was all him. He’s nothing here, nothing at all. He should have just left before. Drove off to the city and let Mr. Harrington sort it all out himself, but fuck, he couldn’t do that because… Because despite all the empty promises Billy knows- knew how much Steve still loved him. For Steve he was the only family left. Billy can’t really understand that, for him he’s never had a family, but he tried to- trying to. He owes St- him that much._

_“So you’ve been living here. With Steve.” Mr. Harrington says and Billy can’t tell if he’s angry, disappointed, or anything else. His expression doesn’t really change. There’s a slight discomfort there but it’s been there since Billy opened the door._

_“Yes, sir. My- my father died and he let me stay here.” Billy supplies, swallowing down the bile and anger that threatens to fall out of his mouth around the words, ‘my father.’ Whenever a thought about him comes there’s so much there that Billy has done his damndest to never truly come out. And lately it’s been easier because his mind and emotions have been on other things._

_“Steve was always soft.” Mr. Harrington says as he nods. “I suppose one might call it kindness, I don’t.”_

_Billy, out of reflex tenses immediately as he hears that tone. That tone that means, ‘you better listen or else.’ But he doesn’t have to worry because as soon as he hears it, it’s gone and this man in front of him is deflating like a balloon. There’s suddenly tears in his eyes that weren’t there a second ago, and even though they will never shed Billy knows it takes everything in that man to make sure they don’t. His tone is no longer that terrifying one, it’s down and sad, and so, so human._

_“You were his friend. He didn’t have much of those. Tommy was always around but he wasn’t- they were never close I don’t think.” Mr. Harrington says slowly as he looks down at his hands, unspeakable sadness emanating from his broad frame._

_“Right.” Billy says, not knowing what else to say. Then suddenly Mr. Harrington is looking up and there’s a fierceness in his features that’s so much like Steve it makes him want to cry like a bitch._

_“I want to do right by him.” He says and Billy is lost in those intense eyes that are almost replicas of his St- of him. “Please, stay here, for as long as you need. I’m moving to the city permanently.”_

_“I can’t.”_

_“Please, Billy, I need to do this for my son. I know I wasn’t there as much as I would have liked” (as he needed) “but I can do this now. This house is yours for as long as you need it.”_

_Billy wants to argue or to- hell, to say something, anything, but all words die in his throat just as quickly as they appear when he sees the desperation in Mr. Harrington’s eyes. The desperation to do something, to make things right, and to be forgiven for his past wrongs to his son. So, instead, Billy nods his head. Mr. Harrington smiles, but it’s not quite there. His smiles is more like Steve’s, just like the smile he had on his last days of being here. Empty._

“What the hell are you doing here, Dustin?” Billy asks a little pissed off as Dustin rushes inside the house as soon as he opens the door to his incessant knocking. Dustin doesn’t even look at him as he walks quickly to the kitchen, no doubt grabbing one of the sodas Steve used to keep packed in the fridge for the kids, now Billy doing the same. He didn’t mean to at first but he got into the habit of getting the things Steve wants- wanted for groceries when he would take his turn on the grocery run. They would take turns, but now Billy does it all and he’s in the habit of getting those stupid sodas.

“Seriously? No cola?” Dustin asks exasperated as Billy shuts the front door and follows him into the kitchen.

“I got that grape shit.”

“Lucas is the one that likes that thank you very much. Steve would have remembered.”

It’s a low blow and maybe Billy could have taken it if not for the hand job he was giving himself earlier that ended in frustrated tears when thoughts of Steve came to mind. He tried his hardest not to think of him, not to remember but God, his pleasure wires are still fucking connected to his mouth, his hands, his everything. He ended up more sexually frustrated than ever and sadder than a bitch dumped on prom. Sometimes he thinks that maybe he’s broken everywhere now. He knew he wasn’t right before- before Steve, and he felt okay with him but now alone he feels more fucked up than ever. Almost like nothing will ever feel right again.

“Yeah well he’s not fucking here.” Billy snaps out grabbing the grape shit out of his hand and throwing it into the sink. Never mind that it’s a glass bottle and that it shatters on impact, fizz everywhere and splashes of the stickiness landing on both him and Dustin both.

“What’s wrong with you, man!?” Dustin yells. “It’s like you don’t even care! He was the best guy ever and it’s like it doesn’t even matter to you that he died.”

Billy wants to yell back but then like a whisper in a dream he hears, ‘he’s just a kid’ from somewhere just beyond sight and he stops himself. Instead he leans back and takes a deep breath before saying to Dustin, “Some people just don’t have a heart to be broken.”

Dustin scoffs. “I’m not going to pretend that I get you two together or whatever you were-”

Billy rolls his eyes at that but becomes slightly uncomfortable as he’s reminded how everyone in their ‘group’ suddenly knows the big secret.

“But you loved him, right? I know what love is okay, and I know what it feels like to lose someone. My dad was five when he died and when Will- now Steve. It sucks- It…”

Billy looks up as Dustin’s bottom lip wobbles and Billy immediately feels guilty. Here Dustin is, last year of middle school and trying to talk to him like an adult, treating Billy like the kid. Trying to comfort him, never mind how he’s feeling. It should be the other way around. Billy should be comforting him, telling him it’s going to get better, that it will be okay, and that Steve is in a better place, but Billy can’t because it would be lies. He doesn’t know if it’s ever going to get better, least of all okay, and he has no fucking idea if Steve is in a better place, or if he’s even gone at all. Sometimes, fuck sometimes he can swear that Steve’s there- some sort of weird Twilight Zone shit. He hates it and craves it all at once. Maybe it would be better if there was nothing, or maybe it would be worse. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything at all expect that it hurts and hasn’t stopped since that day- since the last.

“Don’t- Don’t cry.” Billy attempts as Dustin turns away and hides his face behind his arm, his back to him.

“I- I’m not.” Dustin tries to argue but it’s pointless as sobs become muffled into his denim jacket.

Billy takes a step forward and hesitates, unsure before he reaches out his hand and pats Dustin’s shoulder. It’s all the encouragement Dustin needs as he turns and pushes his face into Billy’s chest. He grips his shirt and sobs louder than ever. It’s painful and full of grief. Billy can hardly stand it, he wants to push him away, to yell, and to tell him to man up but then he thinks of him. He thinks of Steve. He can practically hear him telling him to hug Dustin back, so he does. He does what he’s been doing for the past month, the only thing that he can hold onto; what Steve would want him to do.


	4. "You Only Beat Me If You Get Me To Hate."

**_ October 6th 1984/August 23rd 1984 _ **

“Hello?”

“He h- hated you, you know?”

“Who the fuck is this?” Billy asks incredulously as he pulls the phone away from his ear for a second as though it will give him the answer.

“It’s Nancy!” She whispers the first word and yells the next.

“Why are you calling me?”

Nancy hasn’t talked to him since the day of the funeral. When she and Jonathan left for California, only Jonathan came to say goodbye. Billy didn’t really understand why he bothered but then again he and Steve were friends. He and Jonathan were kind of friends if you can call a few study sessions and monster meetings with the others a form of some strange friendship. Either way he said goodbye and it was awkward. He doesn’t call him though, that would be too weird but every time he calls his family Will always passes on a message from Jonathan to Billy, whether it’s just a quick ‘hello’ or ‘how are you doing?’ They have somehow without actually talking to each other that much found some kind of middle ground, but that’s furthest thing from how him and Nancy have been. So back to the question of why the fuck is she calling him?

“B-e, because! Steve h- hated you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“N- No.” She replies and Billy rolls his eyes. That means yes then. Where the hell is Jonathan? Letting his girlfriend get drunk and start calling people? What if she called her dad? That would have been a hundred times worse, no that he cares or anything but fucking hell, why is she calling him? Interrupting his life? Last time he saw her she had already washed her hands of him and now she’s calling him? What the hell?

“Right.” Billy says to her. “I’m going to hang up now and call Jonathan.”

“No! You only beat me if you get- get m- me to h- hate. You made Stev- Steve hate. Y- you made him love you too. N- now he’s g- dead!”

Billy hangs up the phone before she can say anything else.

…

_It’s not like in the movies where the love interest dies and the main character screams out in pain. There’s no huge emotion that comes from the realization that Steve is gone- dead. Billy doesn’t feel anything at all really, not at first. He doesn’t harden into some monster out on revenge, and he doesn’t start crying only to find that he can’t stop. Instead he simply feels nothing. He feels numb and maybe empty, but mostly numb when he comes to and finds that Steve is gone. He doesn’t really understand it at first but then Hopper is in his face telling him as gently as he can. That’s when everything stops and the numbness sets in._

_All of the kids are understandably devastated and Billy should stay with them according to Joyce, but he can’t. He needs to go and do things. Someone has to call Steve’s dad, someone has to move the stuff back into the basement at the house. Someone needs to call the college and tell the dean that Steve won’t be coming. Someone needs to pick out clothing for him to be buried in. There’s so many things that need to happen and need to be done, Billy should get started on it right away. It’s the least he can do after everything Steve has done for him._

_“I have to go.” Billy says to Joyce as he makes his way to the entrance of the hospital. Everyone is there do to most having one injury or another. It’s where he woke up and where Hopper told him the news. He also said that Steve’s body is in the morgue downstairs but that they can’t see him yet. Billy didn’t need to hear that, why would he need to see Steve? Why would anyone want to? It’s just a body. His mom- she was just a body in the end. So was Neil and Jack. Now Steve. They’re all just bodies, empty and broken beyond repair._

_“Are you sure, honey?” Joyce asks gently. “The kids could really-”_

_“No, I- Someone has to call his dad.” Billy tells her with a nod of his head. “And the house, I have to- to clean it up.”_

_There’s still jars of human blood in the basement that needs tossing into the trash, and holy fuck isn’t that something? Maybe Billy really is in some sort of nightmarish hell. Maybe nothing here is real. Maybe Neil really did kill him and everything afterwards, or maybe even before is just his own personal hell. Maybe none of this is really happening. It sure as hell doesn’t feel real._

_“Oh, sweetie, Jim already called him.”_

_For some reason this really pisses Billy off. They didn’t even know Steve, not really, he should be the one to call his father, not them._

_“Right. But there’s still stuff I have to do.”_

_“If you’re sure.” Joyce says with a hint of apprehension._

_Billy nods his head and starts to take a step toward the door when he stops himself. He turns back to Joyce and asks, “Can you call Susan? To come and get Maxine?”_

_Surprise lights up in Joyce’s eyes but doesn’t let it show in her tone as she says, “Of course I will.”_

_…_

“Your girlfriend is drunk.” Billy doesn’t beat around the bush. As soon as Jonathan picks up and says ‘hello’ the words are out of his mouth.

“What? No, she’s- she’s in her dorm studying.” Jonathan denies.

Billy sighs. Why did he even bother? It’s not like he cares. _But Steve would._ The thought crosses his mind before he can stop it and before he knows he’s saying something else to Jonathan. “She’s drunk. She just called me.”

“What? But-” 

“But nothing. You love her right?”

“Well, yeah but I-” Jonathan tries to explain.

“But nothing. Go find her.” Billy persists and then there’s a beat of silence. Before Billy can stop himself he adds, “At least you still can.”

He hangs up the phone quickly and takes a deep breath as he tries to dampen the raging emotions threatening to explode.

_‘At least you still can.’_


	5. "I Love You Just The Way You Are."

_“You never talk about your mom.” Steve says softly, his breath leaving goosebumps on Billy’s chest where his head lays. There’s a question in his statement but there’s a sense in it that this is only a statement if Billy wants it to be. Steve’s trying to give Billy the chance to say something if he wants but he doesn’t have to. Billy doesn’t know what to think of this or what he should say. It’s true that he doesn’t talk about her, he never has but maybe Steve needs this. Maybe he needs someone to tell him that losing your mom isn’t the end of the world, it just feels like it is._

_“Yeah, well, there’s not much to say.” Billy tells Steve as he rests his hand on his warm back. “I was only seven when she- When she drank herself to death.”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“Why? It’s not your fault.”_

_Steve is silent after that but it’s only for a few moments before he asks something that has been hanging in the air ever since the afterglow had faded. “Does it get easier?”_

_“Sometimes.” Billy answers honestly as a lump starts to form in his throat. He pretends it’s not there and holds onto Steve tighter. He doesn’t realize he’s holding on so tight until Steve’s hand finds his own and links their fingers together. He squeezes and Billy lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as his arms loosen their death grip around Steve. He swallows back the lump and tries to continue, for Steve of course, not for him. He doesn’t need this. He’s fine. His mom did what she did and left him. It’s not his fault, not really. “Sometimes it’s easier, sometimes it’s harder, and sometimes I don’t even think about it.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Yes.” No._

_“Okay. I just- I wish I could have known her better.” Steve admits._

_‘Me too.’ Billy thinks but doesn’t say. Instead he leans over and kisses Steve on the cheek, then on the lips in a bruising grip. Steve doesn’t seem to mind though because he’s leaning back into it just as hard. His head leaves Billy’s chest as he raises himself up slightly to get a better angle at Billy’s lips. He pushes down hard and Billy groans into the kiss as their cock’s find each other once again. Even though they just came a few minutes ago both are getting harder with every thrust against each other. Billy digs his fingers into Steve’s arms as he brings him closer, so much closer until all he can feel, taste, and know is Steve._

_…_

_“I love you just the way you are.” Steve whispers into Billy’s ear. It’s the middle of the night and for some reason Billy has woken up. At first he thought it was because one of them left the window open and now the wind is tinkling his face but after he got a better bearing of his surroundings he found it to be Steve’s hair. He was moving around slightly, kissing Billy’s neck a couple of times. It makes Billy’s nose scrunch up as he’s a little ticklish there. Steve knows this and it makes Billy think he’s doing it on purpose to wake him up but then Steve’s hands were drawing circles into his skin, and then he was whispering those words and more._

_“I don’t care what Nancy or Dustin say about you. I love you just the way you are. I know you’re not perfect but I’m not either I mean- look at me, man, with my track record? You’re the one that should be running the other way. Monsters, dead beat parents, and failed relationships. I pretty much suck.” Steve says all of this in a quiet whisper as his fingers draw patterns into Billy’s chest._

_Billy doesn’t open his eyes the whole time or even after Steve falls back asleep. Instead he keeps them closed and bites his tongue against the words that want to escape. Words like ‘I might love you too’ and ‘you don’t suck.’ Words that tell stories and explain more about himself than what he’s trying to convey. Things like ‘I don’t mind the monsters if you’re there’ or ‘have you seen my parents?’ Or how about the question that burns on his lips like those cinnamon hearts they hand out at Valentine’s Day, ‘You think this relationship- or whatever the hell it is will fail too?’ He bites his tongue against it all and tries desperately to fall back asleep, and to forget or at the very least pretend this never happened. That it was simply a dream. It doesn’t really work but he tries anyway._

_…_

_“Morning, Hargrove.” Steve greets as Billy opens his eyes to the morning light. It’s a Saturday morning and there’s no school which is a relief. It also means they can stay in bed longer. Billy’s cock is already hard at the thought but then the memories of last night and then the middle of the night float back into his mind, he pauses. Steve’s still in his arms and looking at him with those brown eyes. Those sad ‘I just lost my mom and I might love you’ eyes. They turn worried as Steve asks, “you okay?”_

_“Yeah. I’m fine.” Billy answers but Steve doesn’t look convinced so Billy leans over and silences his worried eyes with a searing kiss. At first Steve doesn’t really seem like he’s really into it, more focused on Billy’s weird behavior, but then Billy’s hand is on his dick and he’s kissing down his chest._

_Billy turns Steve over until his back is on the bed and Billy is the one on top. Steve moans as Billy pushes the tee shirt up that he must have snuck on in the night and leans in toward his nipples. He takes one into his mouth and starts sucking. He uses a little teeth because he knows Steve likes that then moves down his stomach and then his hips. He bites and sucks, leaving hickies everywhere until he is low enough to pull of his boxers. By this time Steve is begging Billy to take him into his mouth already but Billy’s not done yet with the foreplay and leans into his thigh. He sucks onto it harshly, Steve’s straining cock touching his cheek as he nips onto his thigh making a very harsh mark in one spot._

_“Fuck, Billy.” Steve says. “Can you just suck my dick already?”_

_Billy smirks._

_At least he’s not thinking about his weird behavior anymore, or about his mom._

_Billy leans back down and takes Steve all in._

_“Fuck!”_


	6. "You'll Always Be A Part Of Me."

**_ October 12th 1984 _ **

“So last year we went as the Ghostbusters but of course that didn’t go well because Lucas just wouldn’t be...” Dustin is going on about Halloween and costumes, and Billy is honestly tired of it. He’s tired of this kid talking his ear off until next Sunday. How the hell Steve put up with he’ll never understand. It’s because of him that he’s tolerating it though. It’s because of Steve that he drives these ungrateful little shits around. Hopefully by next year they won’t fuck up they’re driving test and Billy’s chaperone gig will be over with. He can’t fucking wait.

“We’re here. Now get out.” Billy says not at all kindly but Dustin’s used to it and he only rolls his eyes at Billy before grabbing his bag.

“Whatever.” Dustin says in reply as he opens the passenger door to Billy’s car. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Oh! Shit, wait. I can’t pick you up.”

“What!?”

“I have a job, remember?” Billy says with a sickly sweet sarcastic smile. “Don’t worry your mom’s coming to get you.”

“When the fu- What? When did she say that?” Dustin sputters clearly surprised and annoyed. His mom can be pretty embarrassing but mostly she hasn’t been in that great of health lately which is why Billy has been driving him around. Also he can’t say no to Dustin, he just has that charm or something. Actually, Dustin’s not really sure why Billy is doing this. No matter what he and Steve were Billy’s always been an asshole. Dustin doesn’t really get it but there’s not really anyone else around anymore. Jonathan and Nancy left, and well, Steve’s not here anymore.

“When you were upstairs changing your outfit, Ms. Henderson and I talked.”

“Um, excuse me I split soda on my clothes I had to change and besides she’s not been feeling that well she can’t- she shouldn’t-”

“If you’re so worried about her get one of the other kid’s folks to take you back. I can’t miss work.”

“Fine.” Dustin grumbles before slamming the door and then running up to the Wheeler’s house. They’re all having a sleepover there with Mike- the boys that is. Apparently Jane and Maxine are having their own sleepover at the Byers. Billy’s not really sure, nor does he care. Why should he?

…

_“Steve?” Billy asks a little confused as he opens the door to the bathroom and looks in. Steve said that he was going to have a bath and would be out in an hour or so. It’s been at least two and Billy’s totally not worried, except that he is. “Steve?”_

_Billy walks further into what appears to be an empty bathroom and heads over to the bathtub that’s covered by a shower curtain. For some reason Billy’s heart starts beating fast as his breath comes out in short hiccups. He pulls the curtain back with trepidation as soon as he gets close enough. A strike of fear like lightening enters his heart as he takes a second and no longer to take in the sight in front of him. Steve is laying there in the tub, but he’s covered in water, submerged and eyes closed. He’s eerily still and silent. Billy doesn’t like this at all. It looks more like he’s dead than alive._

_“Steve!?” Billy says with fear as he kneels down and grips Steve’s shoulders. He pulls him up through the water and out. Immediately Steve starts coughing and gasping for breath. He blinks out the water that escaped into his eyes as he opens them and takes the deepest of breaths he’s ever had to take. Which includes that time him and Tommy had that contest to see who could hold their breath under the water the longest at the public swimming pool one summer when he was younger. “Steve?”_

_“What!?” Steve yells as he wipes the water out of his eyes and looks into Billy’s worried ones. Billy stares back, unsure and afraid, but what can he do? What is he supposed to do? He can’t say what he’s thinking, much less what he needs to say so instead he evades._

_“We’re going to be late for the picture.” Billy says instead as he lets go of Steve’s shoulders and looks for a towel. Once found he throws it to Steve and gives him one last look that says everything. “I’ll see you down there.”_

_Then he’s gone on the other side of the door where Steve can’t see him and it’s now his turn to try and catch his breath._

_…_

‘You’ll always be a part of me.’ Billy thinks but doesn’t say with a startling realization as he stares at Steve’s jacket hung over the couch across from the one he sits on. Steve is gone but so is a part of him, and yet he’s there- here within him and it’s impossible to explain or even understand. He’s just here, with him, all the time. What is he supposed to do with that? How is he supposed to find a way out when Steve will never really leave? When he’s always there out of the corner of his eye? At the corner of him? It seems an impossible situation if you ask him.

“Fuck.” Billy says and this time it’s out loud, startling real as he clutches his head in his hands. He’s been getting headaches ever since graduation night, and after that doctor’s visit that seems like eons ago he knows why. It doesn’t help him though, there’s nothing they can do. He just has to ride it out. The doctor did say after all that headache are the least of the symptoms and possible for someone like him to have only that, but unlikely. If Steve was here he would say something witty but that showed he was relieved. Billy would appreciate it but he would only say a sarcastic comment back. Steve would kiss him probably after he said it. He would-

“Shit!” Billy says as his voice shakes. His hands are shaking too and before he knows it he’s crashing to the ground and someone has turned off the lights. And he’ll never admit it but in a split second before his loss of unconsciousness he defiantly feels his bladder giving out.


	7. “Why Tear This Heart Out If It’s Only Been Broken?”

**_ October 13th 1984 _ **

When Billy wakes up it’s pretty clear what has happened. He’s pissed himself and his head is aching. He looks to one side of himself on the floor he is laying on and sees a small dribble of drool. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth and gets the same substance on it. It’s then that it really clicks as to what has happened. He must have passed out, probably his brain thing. It’s nothing really, nothing a quick beer can’t fix anyway, but as soon as that thought is made another comes in, not made but almost as though it is coming through. A thought that is not his own.

_‘Go to the hospital.’_ Then his own saying, ‘Why tear this heart out if it’s only broken? Why care?’ But the other thought, the one that comes outside of himself is so much stronger, so much more than his own. _‘Go to the hospital.’_

It’s so clear and so _Steve_ that he is helpless to do anything but listen, to obey. He’s out of the door before he knows it with car keys in one hand and his shoes in the other. He gets into his car and starts driving as his head aches. He has the smallest sense that maybe he shouldn’t be driving but the pain in his head quickly disintegrates any of those thoughts, helpful or not from fully forming and arising to his conscious level. All he can focus on is driving, getting to the hospital, and Steve. His voice. His words. His concern. His thought. His. Steve’s. Steve.

...

_“Fucking doctors.” Steve whispers angrily as he backs out of the hospital parking lot and makes his way on the main drag back to his place. Billy looks at him a little confused, not sure if what he’s feeling or what he thinks Steve’s thinking is right. After all why would Steve be angry on his account? Why would he even bother? It’s not his damage, it’s Billy’s._

_“Aww, Harrington, I didn’t know you cared.” Billy says sarcastically, the only safe thing he can say._

_Steve looks at him momentarily with a glare but there’s no real anger behind it as he says, “Fuck you,” in return._

_Billy smirks. “Planning to?”_

_Steve does a double take. “Did you not just here what he said? No strenuous activity for twenty four hours.”_

_Billy’s smirk widens as he takes Steve’s words the only way he knows how, the only way that makes sense to him. “Is that a challenge?”_

_Steve narrows his eyes at him then sighs and turns them back to the road. “For fucks sake Billy. Take something serious for once.”_

_“I am.” Is Billy’s quick reply before he’s suddenly leaning over Steve. His hands make their way from his thighs up to the zipper on his jeans._

_“Billy, what the fuck!?”_

_Billy’s mouth envelops Steve’s cock and as a result Steve swerves. “Fucking shit.”_

_Steve quickly pulls over. He shuts off the engine and his hands find their way into Billy’s hair. He hangs onto the tendrils of hair tightly as Billy is anything but gentle and slow. He moans then says breathlessly, “I hate you.”_

_Billy lets Steve’s cock fall out of his mouth briefly to say, “No you don’t” before he takes him all in once again._

_…_

“Well, from what you have told me I would say it most defiantly was a seizure.” The doctor says with a gruff voice as he looks at Billy’s films. He insisted on getting them and with the thought of Steve right there in the back of his mind Billy agreed to them. The doctor at first wanted to call someone, a parent, a guardian or the Chief but Billy quickly showed him is license proving that he is an adult and doesn’t need anyone’s permission. The doctor still argued for him to call someone but Billy’s words became fierce and the doctor couldn’t argue for long not with Billy in the state that he was.

“So what does that mean?” Billy asks. “Is it going to happen again? Because honestly pissing myself isn’t something that I want to happen again.”

The doctor smiles sympathetically. “As I said when you were here a few months ago, there is still a lot about the brain that we don’t understand. I am not an expert, so I have talked to a neurologist who is in California. I’ve made an appointment with him for next month.”

The doctor reaches behind him and takes a folded piece of paper. He hands it to Billy and smiles again only this time in a sorry sort of way. “I’m sorry I can’t help more but Dr. Hugh is the best in his field and an old friend. He’ll run some tests and hopefully he’ll be able to prescribe a treatment.”

Billy looks down at the paper apprehensively. “Is that it?”

“Yes, for now. All I can tell you is that you need to avoid stress and try to relax more. I would prescribe an anti-seizure medication but I don’t want to give you anything until Dr. Hugh does his assessment. If it happens again though come to the hospital straight away, only this time please don’t drive.”

Billy rolls his eyes at that but doesn’t say anything against it, only nodding his head and reaching for his jacket. “Whatever.” Is all he says and starts to walk out the door but the doctor stops him.

“Mr. Hargrove I have another matter to discuss with you.” The doctor says to him making Billy stop and turn to him slightly frustrated as he just wants to get the hell out of here.

“What?”

“Payment. Your hospital bills were paid by Chief Hopper but if you won’t call him and he is no longer helping you it will be your responsibility to make the payment. These tests aren’t cheap and seeing Dr. Hugh, even though he is a friend won’t be cheap either. I’m sorry to have to put this on you but I’m sure if you contacted the Chief he could help. Or perhaps your father’s life insurance, as I understand it from Jim, Susan, your stepmother was the one to collect it but I’m sure if you spoke to her-”

“No!” Billy says forcefully. “I’ll-I’ll figure something out.”

The doctor smiles, once again sympathetically. “I can give you some leeway but a bill will be coming in your mail for today in the next few weeks. You’ll have to talk to Sandra at reception to sort out your address and contact information.”

“Right. Thanks.”

Fuck. He should have never came here.

Billy makes his way out of the doctor’s office and to reception to Sandra to give the Harrington address. As she writes down the information he gets a glimpse at the bill and a strike of panic courses through his body. Fuck that’s expensive. This was just one test, if he goes to California… Billy looks down at the slip of paper the doctor handed him briefly before his eyes find a garbage can next to the reception’s desk. He looks back at the paper and then back to the garbage, his eyes shifting from one option to the next as his brain feels like it’s going to explode.

“Your signature Mr. Hargrove?” Sandra asks breaking Billy out of his inner turmoil. He looks to her and nods before taking the pen and doing as instructed. “Thank you. That’s everything.”

Before Billy makes his way out of the hospital he drops the slip of paper in the garbage can, not able to look at it as it floats down into that dark pit. Brain injury or not, he was never destined to live a long and happy life. Losing Steve, the one thing- the one person that made everything possible has confirmed it.

He wasn’t meant for good things, let alone a long and happy life.


	8. “Things Are Okay With Me These Days.”

**_ October 13th 1984/October 19th 1984 _ **

The first thing that Billy does when he gets back to the Harrington residence, now currently his home- or more accurately the house he lives in is shed his clothes. He steps into the bathroom, taking off his jeans, tee shirt, socks, and boxers until he’s naked and in the hot spray of the shower. It’s the main bathroom and he’s slowly made it his bathroom. There’s one attached to Steve’s room but he hasn’t been staying in Steve’s room, he’s been staying in the guest bedroom. Well, one of the several guest bedrooms. The smallest one he could find that is. It’s located at the end of the hallway upstairs in a corner where all there’s room for is a single bed, a small closet, and nightstand. It’s closed in and it’s exactly what Billy needs. The only downside is that there is no bathroom which is why Billy has made the main bathroom his own. The one he takes craps in and hot showers after having seizures apparently.

The hot spray burns, it leaves dozens of trails along his body. It’s a small pain that comforts and keeps him grounded as he finally, finally loses the urine smell and feeling. He’s already embarrassed enough by what happened let alone to have the reminder left on him. He knows that he can’t stay in here forever but he really wishes that he could. When he can’t stay in here any longer he’ll have to get out and leave, to find the phone and call this neurologist, AKA the brain doctor and cancel whatever appointment Dr. Hugh made. He can’t afford it. Sure he lives in this huge house rent free but the bill the good doc gave him just for his few hour stay today is larger than his paychecks from all this year combined. This head doctor is a specialist in a big city and it doesn’t take a genius to know that it will cost a fortune. A fortune he doesn’t have.

“Fuck.” Billy whispers, but the heat behind the word is lost somewhere in the steam of the shower. He hits the faucet nob furiously and the water turns off as abruptly as it was turned on a few minutes ago. He hates this. He hates everything. He wants to be angry, so much angrier than he is but he can’t find the energy to do so. He can’t find it within himself to be angry. It’s like all that anger he had when Neil was alive, when Steve- when Steve wasn’t himself, it’s like that anger left with him and Neil. They took it and Billy wishes he had the ability to be angry even for that but he doesn’t. He doesn’t feel angry at all. He just feels tired.

His hand reaches out for a towel and he quickly wraps it around himself before stepping out. He walks over to the bathroom mirror, all fogged up from the steam of the hot shower and he hesitates. The hesitation doesn’t last long though before he reaches out with a bare arm, his left, the one with the scar from his wrist all along to his elbow from that night, and wipes the fog away. He leaves a long mark of clarity so that he can finally see himself. His hair drips water down, down, and down. His face is set in a hard line and his eyes are blank. He leans over, closer and looks carefully. He has a scar across his eyebrow from Neil and one, more noticeable above his forehead from the most recent injury that’s caused him to wet himself like some kind of pansy. He should hate it but he doesn’t. In fact he has to push the hair a little ways over to make it even visible and for some reason this makes a small spark of anger reside within him. It surprises him and his eyes light up in the feeling for a fleeting moment before he’s reaching out to the drawer and taking out a pair of metal scissors. He smiles.

The gleam in the lights above the mirror and Billy’s teeth are very yellow. He can’t remember the last time he bothered to brush them. Maybe he should, maybe after this he will. His free hand, the one without the scissors reaches up and curls a tendril of wet hair into his fingers. He pulls it out in front of him and with steady hands brings the scissors up and cuts. He does this slowly and in surprise of himself, and yet he doesn’t stop, he keeps going and going until the piece of hair falls into the sink. His fingers let go of the piece of hair, now very short and Billy stands back, admiring his handiwork. Not bad. Not bad. He reaches out and takes another piece of hair.

Not bad at all.

…

He’s in the kitchen drinking a beer and starting on his second pack of cigarettes of the day when the phone rings. There’s only a few people who could be calling and one of them is someone he really doesn’t ever want to talk to, so when he picks up and it’s Maxine’s voice on the other end he feels relief far greater than he thought was possible. She starts rambling about her friends and her, and how there’s some big tournament of the dorky game they play, Billy’s not really sure on the details. He doesn’t really care but she sounds happy and in turn that makes him feel a bit lighter. She finishes her ramble with a question, a pleading for a ride, and she and Billy both are shocked when he agrees without any more nagging.

“Okay, great.” Max says and Billy hangs up. He puts out his smoke, grabs the beer bottle about to put it back in the fridge but then thinks better of it and shrugs. He downs the rest of it, his first and only beer of the day since he got off work an hour ago, and makes his way out of the mansion like house. He gets in his car and puts a cassette on, one of Steve’s, and starts driving. Most of Steve’s music was pansy stuff but there’s a couple of songs that are so _Steve_ that when he listens to them he feels that he can really feel him there, right next to him.

He makes it to Max’s in record time, the traffic pretty light at this hour of the evening and it turns out that he’s not just driving her. He would complain, in the past he defiantly would but for right now he doesn’t see the point, and Steve wouldn’t. Besides she noticed his hair, giving him a strange look but she didn’t comment on it and for that Billy is forever grateful, although he knows that ignoring of the obvious won’t extent to her other idiot friends, especially that Dustin, but for now it’s good. It’s great.

“What the hell happened to your hair!?” Dustin says in one part shock and another part awe.

“I cut it.” Is Billy’s simple answer as he drives out of the Henderson’s place and makes his way to the Sinclair’s.

“No shit. It’s so short.”

“Fuck you.” Billy says but it’s flat and there’s no emotion. Dustin looks like he wants to say something else in return but a glare from Maxine from the front seat shuts him up, about the hair that is, not everything else. Kid’s a real talker and doesn’t know when to shut the hell up but luckily for Billy he talks to Max about this stupid game, and not him. Small miracles, he supposes as they drive to Lucas’. When he comes out, his bag in hand because apparently this game is going to take all night and they’ll all be staying over, even Max who has somehow cleared it with her mom. (If Neil was here that would have never happened.)

“We’re here, little shits.” Billy says as he parks his Camaro and takes out a cigarette. He lights up and takes a puff as the two boys jump out. He takes outs out the lighter and glances briefly at Max who hasn’t moved despite her friends already knocking on the Byer’s front door. “Aren’t you going to go and see your shithead friends?”

He stares out his window as she answers with, “I wanted to talk to you first.”

“About what?”

Max looks down to her hands in her lap, then up with a fierce courage that’s always made Billy both angry and envious. “Are you okay? I mean, are you doing okay? At Steve’s I mean, by yourself?”

Billy takes the cigarette out of his mouth and almost smirks. His eyes then turn to her as his head follows suit. There’s a dangerous glint suddenly in his eyes, a glint Maxine hasn’t seen in a long time. “Listen here, Maxine, if you ever- EVER, talk about him again in front of me, I’ll make sure you don’t get to see your friends for the rest of the year.” His voice is deadly calm and although Maxine knows that he has no say in her and her mom’s lives since he moved out, she knows that he’ll find a way to make good on his promise. She could argue with him, say something or do something but she finds that she doesn’t want to. They have a sort of friendship, you could even say siblingship and she doesn’t want to ruin that.

“Fine.” She agrees but still with her usual stubbornness and defiance. “Whatever. I’ll see you later.”

She storms out of the car and Billy watches her go. She walks up with heavy steps into the Byers’ house as another person walks out. It’s Joyce Byers and her face is stern as she walks over to Billy’s Camaro with purpose. Billy could back away and get the hell out of there but something about Joyce, about her motherly and stern aura has always made it almost impossible for him to go against her. Maybe it’s because she… No. No, fuck that. He’ll stay and listen to whatever greeting card bullshit she has to say like everyone else because he will have to see her again. Maxine will make sure of that as well as the rest of the kids for their requests for rides and shit.

She walks over and taps on the passenger door. Billy doesn’t look at her but he does wave his hand in a ‘come on in’ gesture and come in she does. She opens the passenger door and steps in, a natural expression on her face. She sits down and shuts the door of the car. Billy waits, tense for her nicety words, but what comes out of her mouth isn’t that at all, not at first anyway, and it surprises him, so much so that he turns and looks at her, curious.

“Got an extra one?” She says, pointing to the cigarette Billy’s smoking. Billy looks from her to the smoke and then back again. He considers her carefully and then shrugs, digging into his pocket and pulling out his pack. He hands it to her as well as his lighter and she gets to work lighting her own. It’s only after a few puffs that she finally asks, “How are things?”

Billy’s answer is simple, direct, and full of shit.

“Things are okay with me these days.”


	9. “Where Have You Been Hidin’ Out Lately, Honey?”

**_ October 19th 1984 _ **

“Where have you been hidin’ out lately, honey?” Joyce asks Billy with a curious and worrying line in her features. She doesn’t smile but she doesn’t quite frown either but the concern is there bright and large, and Billy has to turn away after a few minutes unable to look at it too long. No one has ever really looked at him like that before aside from Steve. Everyone looks at him with anger, disgust, pity, or sympathy. He hates it all but Joyce doesn’t have any of this in the lines of her aging face. All she has is concern, bright and white hot that it leaves Billy puffing down another cigarette quicker than the last. He takes out a third and weighs his options on how he should answer.

“I’ve been working full time.” Is what he decides to say, it’s honest and straight forward, and it doesn’t leave much room for argument, but this is Joyce Byers. Jonathan may be a bit passive but he’s seen his mother in him, the fire of love and caring. He knows that they both have it like scars along the body, unable to get rid of it and embracing it instead. She won’t stop asking, she won’t stop caring ever, but Billy has the nudging feeling that all of this care and concern isn’t for him, it’s for Steve. It’s for the memory of Steve that’s pressed into him like a knife. All of this worry is for him and what Billy represents of him, of Steve, and that’s his love.

Love. That word shocks him. Steve’s told him he loves him, he did and yet, Billy never really believed it. He couldn’t. No one has ever loved him or cared for him unconditionally, but Steve did, he really did. It was that deep unbinding, I’ll never shake you from me love. It was the kind of love the poets talked about and parents warned their children about. It was the kind of love that can heal anything and destroy anything just as quickly. A fierce unwavering love.

“I know, sweetie, but I work full time and I’ve seen these kids more than you.” Joyce tells him matter of fact and Billy wants to lash out but he can’t. He won’t. “I know you’ve been around giving those rides and being there when they need you. I appreciate that and you know, Steve would too.”

“Don’t.” Billy says it deeply. It was supposed to be a bark, a warning but it comes out softly and painfully. It’s not a warning, it’s a plea, and Billy hates it. He, Billy fucking Hargrove is on the verge of tears, but just as fast as they come they’re gone. Thank fucking Christ.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” Joyce says and it’s honest and guilty. She reaches out for him almost out of instinct. Billy sees her hand move before it touches his shoulder, leaving him time enough to flinch away and give her a glare, not trusting his treacherous voice right now. Joyce nods and moves her hand away as if she understands, and says, “Okay. Okay, I’m sorry. I just- you’re not alone Billy, okay? You’re not, honey. If you ever need anything- I mean anything at all, please call me, okay?”

Billy waits for her to leave but she doesn’t, she’s waiting for an answer, and reluctantly Billy gives her one. He nods and she smiles slightly before finally leaving. As soon as the door is shut though, Billy is ripping out of the Byers’ property in record timing. He needs to get out of here. Get out. Get out. Get out.

…

Billy can’t go back to the house and yet it’s the only place he feels okay so he goes there. He drives up in the usual route and turns off his key. He walks out, the second pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket rattling as he walks quickly up to the door. He slams open the door and walks with large steps to the kitchen. He opens the cupboard underneath the sink and pulls out a large bottle of whiskey. He doesn’t bother with any mix, simply taking the bottle and dumping it upside down into his mouth. He drinks too quickly and sputters a little as he pulls the bottle away to wipe the back of his mouth with his sleeve. As soon as the alcohol is cleared from his lips he brings the bottle back and takes another enormous sip.

“Fuck, Mr. Harrington you have good stuff.” Billy says with a stupid grin as he stares at the bottle Harrington senior left behind.

_Ha, ha, ha, ha._

Billy’s eyes widen as he looks up and turns around frantically as the laughter he swears he heard replays in his head over and over. There’s no one there of course, the house is empty and it makes Billy’s stomach flip because he swears he thought he heard… It sounded like… Fuck, this is good stuff, he thinks, pushing the laughter away with another smile as he takes another drink and heads to the living room. He doesn’t spend much time here but Steve’s mom’s old record player sits on the coffee table. Billy put it away when Mr. Harrington came but after he left he had a dream of Steve dancing and he just, he had to take it out again. He doesn’t really play it, actually he hasn’t at all but now he feels like he should. He looks over for a record from the pile he brought up from downstairs, grabbing a random one, not really looking and puts it on.

_“Oh, Suzie Q, baby I love you…”_

Billy’s eyes widen as he stands, frozen, and transfixed, the song playing on. The bottle of booze hung loosely in his grip at his side. He looks and does not see but sees with something else as Steve laughs and asks him to dance. He holds out his hand and everything, and it’s so clear, so now and here that Billy reaches out his hand back. But all his hand feels is thin air. He blinks, closing his eyes longer than necessary, and then opens them again. Steve is gone, and the music isn’t ‘Suzie Q,’ anymore it’s an Elton John record. Billy looks down, still transfixed in the same spot and sees the record turning around and around. The words on it reading, ‘Elton John – Greatest Hits.’

Billy drops the whiskey bottle.


	10. “I Never Said You Had To Offer Me A Second Chance.”

**_ October 31st 1984 _ **

Billy hasn’t seen the kids in a few weeks since he dropped them off at that sleepover and when Joyce cornered him in his own vehicle. She offered him a shoulder of sorts and told him he wasn’t alone. Billy could almost laugh at that and in fact once he got his bearings after the whiskey incident he did. What did Joyce know? How could she possibly understand? Besides he is alone. Those kids, everyone, they don’t care about him and they never will. The only reason they tolerate him right now is because of Steve and the memory of him that’s imprinted into his own skin like a tattoo. Forever.

He hasn’t seen the kids but he has talked to them. Maxine and Dustin both have called about rides and some horror flick at the pictures, but he declined on both occasions, claiming that work needed him which wasn’t a complete lie. He’s been doing extra hours to make up for the hospital bills he’s trying to pay off. Luckily he’s almost done, just another couple hundred and he’s in the clear. He hates the headache it brings though, like a pressure on the back of his neck that won’t let up. Thank God they’re just for that one time, the head specialist didn’t charge him for his canceled appointment which was a lucky break that the secretary was a young redhead originally from Iowa who loves it when men flirt with her. If he had to pay for that then damn, it would probably be an extra month before he paid it off. All his savings were eaten up by it regardless and that blows all on its own. He didn’t really have a plan for that money but it was nice to have just in case.

Currently he’s sitting on the Harrington’s pristine white couches, the television set turned to the Wasp Woman on a channel that’s having a monster movie marathon. It being Halloween and all, not that Billy really pays attention to the holiday or any other holiday for that matter, but it was kind of hard to miss all the costumes when he went out for a beer run and to pick up some pizza after work. He has the day off tomorrow since he’s working a double on the weekend and honestly he’s glad. He remembers last Halloween all too clearly, Steve in his sunglasses and the party where he couldn’t take his eyes off of The King Steve. This Christmas it will be a year since… Well, what the fuck does it matter now, right?

He isn’t expecting the phone to ring, the kids should be out going trick or treating all night and there’s no one else that would call him unless there’s trouble at the garage, which is unlikely, and yet here it is ringing. He sighs and rolls his eyes but gets up anyway, his second beer of the night in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He doesn’t bother dropping either one, instead opting to balance the items as he picks up the phone and rests it between his cheek and shoulder. Almost immediately he hears the annoying voice of the Henderson kid and he regrets his whole existence. He debates briefly whether he should just hang up now, but like a sliver of wind pushing pressure on curtains, a touch pushes his hand away from doing so. Billy freezes at the touch, at the pressure of it and looks around frantically, but no one’s there. It’s just him. It’s just him. It’s just him.

“…Okay?” Dustin finishes and Billy really has no idea what the hell he just said as he blinks and puts the beer bottle on the kitchen cupboard. He takes the phone and holds it up to his ear, wiping whatever tiredness caused him to think that something other than him had moved the phone.

“What did you say?” Billy asks and Dustin swears.

“Can we come over to watch the monster movie marathon at yours? Everyone else is busy. Please, Billy? Pleaaasssseee.”

“Fuck, fine.” He says it quickly surprising him just as much as it does Dustin and the others who are listening in on the conversation on the other end. Billy blinks in shock and looks around as he feels an internal pressure now, a feeling akin to the ones he felt when he- when…

“Great! Bitchin’.” Dustin says and someone else nearby says something like ‘that’s not how you say it.’

“Yeah, whatever.” Billy says as he rubs his chest down, just above his heart where it squeezes, his breath almost leaving him. Maybe it will be better not to be alone in this place. It’s so much _Steve_ lately that it hurts. Not that he would admit that out allowed or barely to himself. “But I’m not coming to get to you dipshits. Get your own ride.”

“Deal!”

Billy hangs up before he can say anything else and finishes off his beer in one go.

…

“Aren’t you little shits supposed to be out trick or treating or something?” Billy asks as he starts in on his third beer, all of the kids sprawled out on the Harrington’s carpet, setting up sleeping bags and pillows. At Billy’s words though they all look up with confused faces.

“Uh, Billy, we’re like fifteen.” Maxine says. “Well, most of us.”

“Fuck you, Hargrove.” Dustin says but there’s no heat behind it and it makes them all laugh aside from Billy who stares at them in confusion and some hurt. A pain in his chest as those words, so familiar, so real and so _him_ crawl out and encompass him.

“Whatever.” Billy says with a shake of his head. “I still don’t know why you’re folks agreed for you all to be able to come here.”

Every single one of them looks down in various degrees of guilt and Billy pauses, his beer half way to his mouth. “They do know that you’re here, don’t they?”

“Well…” Lucas starts and Mike picks it up for him.

“They know we’re at a friend’s, with adults.” Mike says sheepishly.

“Technically you’re an adult.” Chimes in Dustin and Billy can’t help but roll his eyes, hiding the fond smile behind the beer bottle. He can almost hear and see Steve’s disapproval, and then grumbling acceptance. If he were here, it would be so much better and so much happier, more at ease for them all.

“I opted for us to just park somewhere and tell scary stories but no.” Lucas says as he looks down spreading out his sleeping bag. “I still don’t get why we offered you a second chance.”

Before any of the other kids can say anything Billy does. “I never said you had to offer me a second chance.” His voice is as hard as steel, and the others look momentarily frightened, maybe even ashamed.

_They’re just kids._ Billy hears a voice say somewhere from within and he knows it’s not his own because he listens to it.

“But if you want to stay here tonight you can.” Billy adds a little more kindly which makes Lucas and the other boys look up in surprise. Maxine looks relieved and Jane looks happy on the other hand as well as that surprise. “So tell me how you tricked your folks exactly? And then maybe, maybe I’ll order some pizza for you shitheads.”

“Easy.” Will says with a tentative smile. “Red Robin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated. <3


	11. “Slow Down, You Crazy Child.”

**_ November 14th 1984 _ **

_It was terrifying seeing him like this. Seeing him at all period was terrifying but when he looked at Billy with that quiet snarl that no one else seemed to notice was the scariest. It was like everything in his father, in Neil had been shut down and shut off. He was just nothing, big bottomless black hole of nothingness. No that was not right, it was not nothing, it was pain white hot and deep with no shades of anything, no pause and no breaks. Just pain, just the hurt he has to dish out for-_

_“Responsibility and respect.” His father says in his low tone filled with an anger that is more of that pain and nothing than anything else. It entices a fear in Billy that is older than he’s sure even himself. A fear that’s been with him since forever, even before his father first hit him, even before his mom died. Before all of it. “Do you understand?”_

_“Yes, sir.” Billy bites the words out as he stands up straight, impossibly taller and full of steel. His father’s snarl widens as he walks closer and closer to him down the hall in that menacing step that screams that white hot pain about to come. His hands curl into fists and press his nails into his skin as his father, almost like a snake slithering comes closer, his tongue suddenly there._

_His breath is like acid on Billy’s face as he breathes the words, “I didn’t hear you.”_

_“YES SIR.” Billy says loudly, almost yelling but not quite and it makes Neil smile, no that’s not right it’s that snarl but wider. There’s something more there than that pain and Billy almost flinches. He hasn’t seen that look in a long, long time._

_“I am not dead. I can never die, Billy, don’t you know that by now?” His father asks with a mock concern, but it’s a theoretical question and honestly Billy’s not sure how to answer it regardless so he says nothing. “I asked you a question, boy!”_

_He’s pushed into the mirror behind him as shards fly out, cutting and embedded into his skin. His head throbs and he feels himself wetting his pants like a pussy. His eyes roll up and he knows his father is still there but he can’t see anything anymore. He’s not in this place, he’s-_

**Thud.**

Billy sits up on the carpet floor, blankets wrapped around his legs, tangling and holding him in a firm grip. He looks around frantically as he feels the piercing of glass in his back and back arms, but it’s not real pain, more like the faded memory of some. The sunlight streams in from the small window in his small room and it makes it easy to quell the fear that sometime in the night he really did break some glass. There’s nothing there on his arms and when he feels to his back there’s nothing there either, but his head throbs and his arms are sore like he’s moved them too much. He feels groggy and his mouth is fuzzy like mothballs were stuck in there most of the night. His legs are wet and oh fucking God. He- Shit- He…

Another seizure?

Billy feels impossibly tired, he almost, almost rolls over and falls back asleep but the pungent urine smell is far too great for him to ignore. He feels funky and wrong and just out of it. He feels like this isn’t his body and he’s only barely attached to it. It’s a queer feeling and eerily similar to the one he had last time before he went to the doctor and ate up his savings in a few hours. Yeah, not going to do that again, is Billy’s immediate thought as he gets up on shaky legs and makes his way to the bathroom. First thigs first and all.

…

He’s just put the sheets into a garbage bag and placed it by the front door, lighting himself a cigarette soon after when banging starts on the front door. He’s less than a meter away from it and he can already hear the pitter patter of those brat’s feet. Which one is it this time? Douchey, smelly, or lively? Whatever, he doesn’t have to answer and in fact he really doesn’t want to. Sure he had a shower and changed his clothes but he’s still a little off balance from this morning and from the dreams. He doesn’t want to talk or see anyone. It’s bad enough that he had to call in sick for work. He never does that and he hates it, but it’s only for the morning. He’ll be there after lunch.

“Billy! Billy! I know you’re in there! Open up!” Maxine yells and Billy sighs. Fuck, if it was anyone else…

“What the fuck do you want?” Billy asks as he takes a puff, opening the door to see the redhead.

“Finally!” Max says with a smile and walks in past him. Billy watches her with irritation and anger, but maybe that’s the headache that’s steadily been growing since this morning. Luckily it looks like she’s alone, no other shits with her.

“What do you want Maxine?”

They’re in the living room now and Maxine has made herself at home on the loveseat, pulling out a notebook from her backpack. She has a pen too, and Billy wonders what happened to his sister and who the hell is this? She looks up with a grin and says, “So my birthday is next week. Can I count you in? I need someone to buy soda, I thought you could?”

“Me?” Billy asks in confusion as he takes a seat on the edge of the opposing couch. “I think you have me confused with someone who gives a shit.”

Max simply rolls her eyes and starts talking a mile a minute. “Come on Billy, the others are coming. Lucas and Will are splitting pizza. Mike has the snacks covered. Jane has managed to get some other things… And Dustin is bringing the newest D&D updates. Mom is already taking care of the cake so I just need-“

_Mom. Susan. Bitch._

“Slow down, you crazy child.” Billy interrupts with a hand held up, the one with the scar. He sees Max staring and he immediately drops it, covering the sleeve of his flannel over top of it. “I have work.”

“It’s on the weekend.”

“I’m not fucking going.”

“But Billy-” Max tries again.

“No, no fucking way. What, Maxine? You thought we were best pals now? I hate you and all your dipshit friends and that’s never going to change.”

Maxine looks hurt now, her anger gone as soon as it arrived and it’s so unlike her that Billy has the sudden urge to ask what’s wrong, like he doesn’t know, like he didn’t cause it. She doesn’t even say anything more, she just gets up, bag in hand, and walks past him quickly. She stops though before she makes it all the way out of the living room and to the front door. She says, “I thought maybe, just maybe Steve was good for you. That he made you less of an asshole.”

She doesn’t elaborate more, simply storms out, and as soon as she’s gone, Billy picks up the glass coffee table and throws it as far as he can. Shards of glass go flying and he feels the sting before he sees the aftermath of his anger, of him losing control. He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t, until he was.

“Fuck!” Billy screams as his fingers curl into his hair, the cigarette long forgotten. “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!”


	12. “I Don’t Care What You Say Anymore, This Is My Life.”

**_ December 12th 1984 _ **

It’s been a quiet month since Maxine came here and the glass coffee table shattered. He hasn’t talked to any of the shitheads since aside from Dustin who when he came over soon after didn’t say anything about anything. He just walked in, saw the glass, and told him he should clean it up. That’s all he said and then they had an awkward soda together before he left. Since then none of them have showed up or called and it’s better this way. At least Billy tells himself that. Truth be told, if he was being honest with himself he missed them. He missed the contact and the people, he missed them, but if anyone were to ask he would say good riddance.

Billy knows what he is and it’s not good. He’s poison. Everyone who gets near him gets hurt. His mom, Steve, and even fucking Mrs. Wheeler. Mike never said anything about his mom before. Not to Billy at least and Billy thought maybe that was because he hated him so much that there were no words, but a smaller part of him whispers that everyone grieves differently. Greif. He hates that word, it means nothing to no one until you’ve experienced it, and when you’ve experienced you find that the word means nothing. Loss is so much more than a word. One word does nothing to describe the emptiness, the anger, and the part of you that’s been broken and is gone forever. No one gets it. No one unless they’ve been there.

When these thoughts come to Billy, usually when he’s sitting at home, TV on and beer in hand, he thinks of Jack and his last moments. He thinks of what he made Steve do and it pains Billy because- because, in his deepest thoughts, ones that don’t make the surface he knows that’s why Steve was chosen. Why he was so vulnerable to that _thing_. It was because of Jack and what he did to him. The pain that left and the guilt. Billy feels anger for that but it’s buried behind other things, other harsh truths he can’t make himself think of. He just can’t.

In those thoughts there’s something else. There’s a woman with red hair and a grim face that watches him. Watches him go through horror and she does nothing. She stands there over him and watches. It makes his stomach turn and push out anger beyond anger itself. A fury that’s quenched by the truth of her own situation and how she was just as trapped as he was, and yet… She watches. She does nothing but watches and to Billy that’s worse than what his father did. He doesn’t acknowledge this consciously, it’s more like a feeling behind all of the shitty memories. He doesn’t want to see her ever but then as he’s walking out of the grocer’s one day she’s there.

Billy doesn’t say anything as he stares at the weathered face of Susan Hargrove. What can he say? He killed her husband and is sort of friends with her daughter who now hates him. They lived together once as a staged family and maybe that should be something to get him to move his lips but he finds that he can do nothing but stand and stare. She doesn’t seem all that surprised at his stillness, she has her own stillness too but then she smiles and it makes the lines in her features crack. She’s not okay but she’s better because he’s gone, and in that vital thought Billy can relate. Something he wishes he couldn’t do. He wishes that he had nothing in common with her because they are fundamentally different, or so he hopes. In the end didn’t he just watch as much as she did?

“Billy.” She says with a smile that’s half real and half make believe.

Billy finds his voice then. He swallows back all of the emotions and clutches the brown bag closer to himself as he says, “Susan.”

“I’ve been meaning to call.” She says with a nod and Billy bites back the snarl that wants to leave his own lips. It would be far too much like _his_ and he has enough of _him_ in himself for one person.

“Right, I’m sure.”

“Billy, I’m-” She starts and for one burning moment Billy is sure that she is going to apologize. For what exactly? Not calling? For just watching? Billy isn’t sure and he’s not sure how he would respond either, but he knows it won’t be good. So he’s both angry and relieved when her next words are something else. “Christmas is coming soon. You should come over. I think Maxine would like that.”

That right there shows what she knows, thinks Billy as he smiles with a hollow grin. “No.”

“Billy, I know that I’m not your- your mother but we’re a family or we were and you should come. You listened to me in the past.”

That last sentence is said almost pathetically as they both know he only did so because of _him_.

“I don’t care what you say anymore, this is my life.” And he’s dead. I killed him and I don’t have to listen to a single goddamn thing you say anymore.

She looks down and sighs. Billy should go, he should walk away, and never look back but he can’t. He’s frozen here staring at woman that was supposed to be… That was supposed to be…

“Billy.” She says looking up now with sudden tears in her eyes. “I just want to make things right. Maxine loves you and misses you. I know that something happened between you too lately, and maybe if you come for Christmas it could help fix things for the both of you.”

And me, she doesn’t say with words but her eyes speak volumes and Billy feels that anger wash over him once again. He wasn’t angry for so long but now, that fucking nightmare, and- and- GOD. He just wants to punch, to break, and to hurt. He wants to let it all out on the world and watch it burn. This world that has been so cruel to him. This world that took away the one good thing he’s ever had.

_Steve._


	13. “Go Ahead With Your Own Life, Leave Me Alone.”

**_ December 12th 1984/December 14th 1984 _ **

“Go ahead with your own life, leave me alone.” Billy tells Susan in a low and threatening voice, but Susan is tougher than Billy gives her credit for, and although she shrinks away she responds in a hard voice.

“If that’s what you want, but if you change your mind you know where we are.” Susan tells him with a nod before turning and walking into the grocer’s. Billy watches her go, his gut twisted up as he thinks about what she said and what she’s offered. He can’t help but think it’s a ploy, a way for her to feel better, and that it has nothing to do with him. If she really cared she would have stopped him. She would have helped him. She wouldn’t have just watched, but then again he can’t only blame her. There’s only been one person who’s ever tried to help him, who has, and that person is gone.

Billy feels the emptiness like a door into the cosmos being open. He remembers so many things about Steve and so many moments. They talked about Halloween and about Christmas. Billy told him that he never really had a real Christmas and he doesn’t put much stock in holidays. Steve had told him that he’s usually alone for them and that he really wants to have a Christmas. A real Christmas. He told him that he and Billy didn’t say anything. Inside though he felt his heart squeezing at the pain in Steve’s voice when he said that. He remembers how he vowed to make that pain go away. Whether he hates it or loves it Steve deserves the fucking universe and no matter what he’ll try to give it to him. But now Steve is dead in the ground, and all Billy can give him is the promise to take care of his kids.

He could almost laugh as he walks away from the grocer’s and to his car. ‘His’ kids. They aren’t really his kids but Billy knows he felt responsible for them. Billy knows that Steve would want them to be taken care of and him? Well he’s done a pretty crappy job of that. It’s not Maxine’s fault that her mother is Susan. It wasn’t Billy’s fault that his father was Neil Hargrove, and it’s not the kids’ fault that Steve died. He was there and he should have done something more. Instead he let that thing get the drop on him and Steve paid the price.

Billy grips the steering wheel and tries his damndest not to let the overwhelming pain engulf him. He has to stay strong. He has to stay alive. He has to survive. To keep going for him because he can’t anymore, and this is all he can do for him now. Live his life like he knows that Steve would have wanted. That’s all you really can do when someone dies, is keep going the way they would have wanted you too. No matter how difficult it is but in order for Billy to do that though, just like before, like always- To survive he has to cut himself off. He has to become nothing.

…

“Hello?” Maxine answers with her usual pip pip cheer. She doesn’t know it’s Billy yet though and that’s probably why.

“Hey, Maxine.” Billy says and he can hear as she intakes a deep breath, then the distance as she pulls away from the phone no doubt about to hang up. “Wait. Don’t hang up.”

“What do you want, Billy?”

“I- You should come over for dinner tonight.”

“What?” She’s surprised and Billy inwardly cringes. He’s never been good at this.

“Bring your shithead friends if you want.” He tells her as sincerely as he can.

He feels the tone and mood shift before he hears the teasing in Max’s tone. “Is this your lame way of apologizing?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine. What’s for dinner? Pizza?”

Billy rolls his eyes. “Like I know how to cook.”

_Steve did._

Max laughs over the line. “Fine. I’ll ask the others but don’t be surprised if only I showed up. I told them how much of an asshole you were last time.”

“Well, I didn’t get you a present for your birthday but I do have a beer with your name on it.”

That has her attention as she asks excitedly, “Really?”

“Only the one, and you have to mix it with soda but yes.”

“Yes!” She says but it’s quiet, more like she’s saying it out of the receiver, adding, “The others are going to be so jealous.”

“So you’ll come?” Billy asks.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” She’s smiling now, he can tell, and it makes him smile too.

…

_“I like when you hold me like this.” Billy tells him, as his hand curls into Steve’s more tightly. Steve is wrapped around his back like an octopus and his lips are pressed into his skin, now turning up into a smile. It leaves a small breath on his skin and a tingle up his spine. They don’t usually ‘cuddle’ like this, it’s more usually a mesh of bodies together, but this time is different. This time it’s not real._

_“Me too.” Steve tells him. “I miss touching you, feeling you.”_

_“Then why don’t you come home?”_

_“This place was never really a home for me.”_

_“We could go find somewhere else and make it ours.” Billy insists, reddening at his girlish tone._

_“I want that more than anything.” Steve admits as his smile turns into a frown. “But I’m stuck here. I’m stuck.”_

_“Why? I don’t understand.”_

_“You will.”_

Billy sits up his bed, the blanket pooling at his feet. He looks around in the darkened room and shivers. The window is shut but he feels like it’s been open for hours. He reaches out for the blanket and wraps it around himself. There’s a shiver up his spine and a tingle that is familiar, but he ignores it. He looks at the clock and it’s only ten to one. He lays back down still staring at the numbers and closes his eyes. He has to work tomorrow, but he swears that he was dreaming, but it felt less like a dream and more like… Another world.

Billy opens his eyes and the clock strikes one.


	14. “You Might Have Heard I Run With A Dangerous Crowd.”

**_ December 25th 1971/ December 22nd 1984 _ **

_Young Billy Hargrove lays in his bed, blankets wrapped around him tightly as he listens to the tick ticking of the clock on his nightstand. The air is colder than usual, but that’s only because Billy had opened the window the minute his mother left the room. Alex Horton in his second grade class said that if you opened your window you could actually hear Santa’s sleigh and the reindeer as they thumped on your roof. Billy wasn’t sure if that was true or not but he was willing to try it but then he fell asleep for a few hours. He didn’t hear anything before or after so Santa must have come when he was sleeping, at least that’s the only reason he can think of. It’s still too early to get up only just after four in the morning, still dark out but Billy is so excited, his stomach is in knots, and he can’t go back to sleep._

_“Billy? Billy?” He hears a sweet, gentle voice ask quietly as his door creaks open slowly. Billy opens his tightly shut eyes and locks eyes with his mother’s. She’s smiling, her nightdress flowing in the wind of the window, but just as quickly as the smile arrives on her lips it leaves as she shivers. She looks to her son with confusion but fondness as she walks over, past him and to the opened window. She shuts it quickly and then walks back to lock eyes with her young son once again._

_“Why did you leave your window open, Billy?” She asks in curiosity, not really all that angry at him._

_Billy smiles almost sheepishly but doesn’t try to lie as he answers honestly, “Alex Horton said that if I leaved it open I could hear Santa, but then I fell asleep.”_

_Her mother shakes her head with a loving look as she replies with, “Well, perhaps next year, huh? Why don’t we get up and see what he’s left you? Your father has decided to sleep in but I knew you’d want to get up as soon as you could.”_

_“Really? I can get up now?” He asks excitedly, he looks to the clock and sees the small hand on five. It’s too early he knows even if he can’t really read the clock but his mother is here saying its fine._

_“Okay!” He says a little too loudly, causing his mother to put her finger to her lips, silently quieting him._

_“Alright, let’s go and see.”_

…

“Hey, honey.” Joyce says walking up beside Billy who leans against his car, lighter in one hand and cigarette in the other. He lights it quickly, taking a long puff before answering her.

“Hi.” Billy says evasively as he looks over to the kids running around in the freshly fallen snow. They may be teenagers but they can’t resist the white wonders, and they’re not the only ones, Hopper is right there with them, trying to make snowballs. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it the snow isn’t sticky enough for it and there’s not enough besides. Instead the kids and Hopper resort to throwing big armfuls at each other like they’re in the lake at the beach throwing water at each other. They laugh and smile as they have fun, and Billy almost smiles too. He should leave but Maxine begged him to stay for a while and he reluctantly agreed, still on thin ice from the glass coffee table incident.

“How are you doing?” She asks, not looking at him, trying to give him some space both physically and emotionally.

Billy’s mind goes through a ton of response, and the consequential results and replies from her before answering with gritting teeth, “Fine.”

“Christmas is in a few days, we’re having dinner here. Will, Jane, Jim, and Jonathan will be there too. Nancy will be with her folks as well as everyone else. I’m guessing you won’t be doing that.”

“Neil’s dead and Susan ain’t nothing to me.” Billy says, keeping as much emotion as he can out of his words.

“What about Maxine?”

“She’ll be fine with her mom, she said so.”

“Uh huh. Listen, Billy, I’m inviting you to our place for Christmas dinner, so come, okay? You can’t say no to me.” Joyce says seriously her eyes set on his.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.” He says as nicely as he can manage.

“Billy-”

“Ms. Byers… You might have heard I run with a dangerous crowd.”

Joyce looks from him, to the kids, and then back to him, and for some reason this makes Billy both want to burst out laughing and also to hit something.

“I’ll come on News Year Eve. When everyone else does.” Billy compromises before turning and opening his car door, wanting to get the hell out of here.

“Okay.” Joyce agrees. “I’ll see you then.”

…

_Billy smiles widely as he picks up the tennis racket and netted bag of green tennis balls. He looks up to his mom who smiles widely and excitedly down at him. “Wow,” Billy tells her and her smile widens. “For me?”_

_“For us.” Her mother says in confirmation. “I know I haven’t played in a while but I’m going to teach you. Would you like that?”_

_Billy nods and is about to say something when heavy footsteps break through their happiness. A tired looking Neil Hargrove walks into the living room and looks at his family. His eyes narrow as he takes in the tennis racket and green balls. His hands tighten into a fist and Billy stiffens in fear as his mother does the same._

_“What is this?” He asks carefully, his voice emotionless._

_“Tennis rackets.” His mom says. “It’s alright Neil I-”_

_“We can’t afford those.”_

_“It’s okay, daddy, Santa brought them.” Billy tells him with a smile that soon falls as his dad’s glare strengthens. His eyes move from Billy to his mom._

_“Well? Are you going to tell him, or should I?” Neil asks her._

_“Neil, please.” She tries to say, but he’s already talking again._

_“Billy, there is no such thing as Santa, and this shit right here was your mom, but we can barely pay the bills so why exactly is she going out and buying brand new bullshit fruitcake sports shit? Hmm? Tell me. Why.”_

_Billy shrinks back, suddenly very sorry for everything he’s ever done._


	15. “I’d Rather Laugh With The Sinners Than Cry With The Saints.”

**_ December 31st 1984 _ **

“1985, huh?” Billy asks with a shake of his head as he holds up the streamers Maxine handed him. They’re both at the Byer’s helping to set up for the New Year’s Eve celebration and somehow Billy got roped into it. Where are the other snot nose kids? Why can’t they help? Better yet where is Jonathan and Nancy? Well apparently they’re out getting supplies but they’ve been gone long enough for Billy to know that they’re doing more than getting supplies. Fucking assholes. Lucky assholes.

“I know, right?” Maxine says with a smile. “Unbelievable. 1984 went so fast.”

Billy gives her a wry smile, fast, right. There was so much shit that happened this year it felt like an eternity, but at the same time there is some truth to what Maxine has said. It went incredibly slow but there were moments and weeks that seemed to go by like the snap of his fingers. Weeks where he was happy and Steve was happy. Weeks and days where there was great sex, food, and laughter. Weeks and days where Billy was closer to something he never thought he could have, where the blood on both their hands fell off and disappeared. Weeks and days where all the awful things in the world faded. It was just them. It was just them and they were happy, they were content.

“Billy, you okay?” Max asks, looking at him curiously. They’re in the Byers living room making it look ‘magical’ as Jane had put it.

“Yeah, where do you want this?” He says, changing the subject quickly as he snaps out of his thoughts. Max looks at him, not saying anything for a few long moments, contemplating if she should ask wants wrong before deciding against it and telling him it could be hung in the kitchen.

“We’re back!” Nancy calls just then and Billy sighs in relief as he hangs up another streamer.

“It’s about fucking time.” Billy tells her and Jonathan who walk in, cheeks flushed from the cold, yeah the cold, right.

“Language!” Joyce yells from the living room, and how the hell did she hear him?

“We got the snacks and extra soda.” Nancy says as her and Jonathan drop the bags of various food items onto the kitchen table.

Billy’s eyebrows scrunch up as he looks through them. “Where’s the Coke?”

“Oh.” Jonathan says, his eyes wide eyed. “Uhhh…”

“Too busy screwing like bunnies to get it?”

“Billy!” Maxine, Joyce, Hopper, and Nancy all say at once, but the redden cheeks of the couple tells Billy that he got it right on the nose.

…

Billy’s found himself outside in the frigid cols air smoking one cigarette after another as he drinks the beer he snuck past Ms. Byers a few hours later. It’s an hour away from midnight and the others are playing a riveting game of monopoly. He can hear their laughter from out here and it makes him all the more bitter. He hates this. He hates their happiness. How can they be happy when he is gone? How can they just go on? It doesn’t make sense to him and in fact it pisses him off a lot.

“Can I sit here?” A timid voice asks breaking Billy out of his reverie. He looks up and finds Will Byers with that awful bowl cut looking down at him. He has his jacket on, an old one that no doubt used to be his brother’s as it comes down past his knees. He’s a teenager, fifteen next month, but he still has that boyish innocence, despite everything he’s seen.

“Sure, kid.” Billy replies, moving his beer over so that he can sit down beside him on the porch. “Why aren’t you playing monopoly with the others?”

“Don’t want to.” Is Will’s simple reply but Billy can hear the undertone of doubt to his words. There’s something else, something else that prevents him with being near the other, and if he wasn’t himself- if he was Steve he would ask why, but he’s not Steve, and Steve isn’t here.

“What’s up, kid? What the hell did they do to you?”

“Nothing! Nothing.”

“Then why are you out here in the cold talking to someone like me?” Billy asks taking a puff.

“I- I don’t know.” Will answers unsure.

“I think you do.”

Will looks down, playing with his hands nervously.

“What is it?” Billy pushes.

“I- I was wondering about you and Steve.”

Billy stiffens slightly but he doesn’t feel himself getting angry. Unlike everyone else there is no confusion, disgust, pity, or surprise in his words, there’s just plain curiosity and sadness. “What about me and- and him?”

“Dustin says that you were like boyfriend and girlfriend, but you’re both boys.”

Billy smiles bitterly. “Well, kid, there’s this thing called queer.”

“The kids at school used to call me that.” Will says sadly, looking down.

“Hey, it’s not a bad thing. It just means you don’t like girls.” Billy says, not quite defending himself, but defending this kid instead.

“Really?” Will asks looking up excited and scared.

“Yeah, most people don’t like queers, poofs, fruitcakes, whatever.”

“I know that.”

“Yeah, most use religion to justify themselves. Saying we’re sinners. Well most of the world is comprised of assholes. Including myself.” Billy explains with a smirk as he lights another smoke.

“I don’t think you’re an asshole.” Will says quickly. “Or a sinner.”

Billy almost laughs. “I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints. Besides, there’s a lot of shit I’ve done that you don’t know about, kid.”

Will looks down, pondering Billy’s words, then, very quietly he asks, “What if I’m a sinner? What if I’m really queer? What if I don’t like girls?”

Billy’s beer is half way to his lips when Will’s words puncture through him, making him pause and look over. “You don’t, huh?”

Will looks down, ashamed, and then shakes his head in conformation.

“Oh.”


	16. “Sinners Are Much More Fun.”

**_ December 31st 1984/January 1st 1985 _ **

“Listen, kid,” Billy says to Will as nicely as he can, “Sinners are much more fun.”

Will looks up, his eyes suddenly red. “I don’t want to be evil.”

“What? No. You’re not evil. Come on, those monsters from that Upside Down, my dad, that’s evil, not you.”

“I don’t like girls like I should.”

“So? Some people don’t even like Coke, does that make them evil?”

Will shakes his head. ‘It’s not the same thing though.”

Billy sighs, his hand coming up to his head and massaging it carefully. When did he get roped into becoming some Boy Scout leader? He’s not an advice person. Why is this kid talking to him? He should talk to his mom or his shithead friends, is what Billy thinks until he remembers Dustin’s discomfort at talking about him and Steve. Right, his friends, like they’d be so helpful, but what about the Wheeler kid? Weren’t him and Will like best friends or something?

“What about Mike? Have you talked to him about this shit?”

Will looks down sadly. “I did once, but ever since his mom… He’s- he’s… I don’t want to bother him.”

Billy wants to say ‘fuck that’ but Will has a point. Someone who just lost their mom? They’re in no position to be giving advice or helping others, but then again Will is going through shit. He should have his friends there for him. Not that Billy knows what that’s like, but he did have Jack and that was more than enough for him. Maybe Will just needs someone in his corner. Maybe that’s all anyone needs.

“Will, you’re not evil and so what if you’re queer? I don’t give a shit. You shouldn’t either, okay?” Billy says in a voice that leaves no room for argument.

“But-”

“Hey!” The front door opens and Nancy pops her head out into the outside. “It’s ten minutes until 1985. Get in here already.”

Will smiles, all past anxieties about his sexuality disappearing, “Okay.”

…

After the whole countdown to twelve and the cheers, glasses clinking, Billy gets another chance to talk to the young Byers. Billy’s in the kitchen, the others in the living room celebrating and dancing when Will walks in to grab a soda. Billy sits at the table drinking another beer and gives Will a smile.

“So, kid, I think I know what your problem is.” Billy says and Will stops, confused and curious.

“What do you mean?” Will asks.

“It’s not that you don’t like girls, it’s that you don’t have confidence.”

“Confidence?”

“Yeah, confidence. You walk around shyly, clothes second hand, and a haircut that screams ‘loser.’” Billy explains not that unkindly as he gets up, reaching into the fridge to grab Will a soda. He passes it to him and Will cracks it open.

“You think I’m a loser, too?” Will asks hurt.

“No, I think everyone else sees you as one and I’m going to help you change that.”

“Why? I mean, like you said you’re- well I know you don’t really like any of us.”

“Yeah, well I’m feeling generous.” Billy lies. “So do you want my help or not?”

“I guess, but my mom-”

“Rule #1, do what you want to do not what your mom wants.” Billy says as he takes a chip from the bag on the table and munches it aggressively.

“Okay, what’s rule #2?”

“Your image. Tell me, kid, do you really like that haircut? Or those striped shirts you’re always wearing?”

“My mom buys them for me.” Will says a little self-consciously.

“And that’s your problem right there. Remember what I just said? Do what you want, not what your mom wants.” Billy says again.

“Right, okay. But I don’t really have any money to buy new clothes and I’m not sure my mom will want me to go either.”

“Don’t worry,” Billy says with a smile, “I’ve got you covered.”

…

“Thank you for inviting me, Ms. Byers.” Billy says with a smile in the early morning light. Everyone turns to him at his kind words, all with mixed and varying degrees of shock, surprise, and suspicion. Never have any of them heard him speak like this before, so nicely.

“What?” Maxine says looking up at him with more suspicion than anyone else. Billy reaches out and hits her slightly with his elbow, his fake smile wide and unmovable.

“Uh, thank you, Billy.” Joyce says as Hopper narrows his eyes.

“So, I was wondering if perhaps I could take Will with me to the town over for the day next Saturday. They just opened a new mall and I thought maybe he’d enjoy a day out.”

“Will?” Joyce asks surprised as she looks over to her son who smiles widely in hopes of easing her worries into saying yes.

“Yeah, don’t worry, Maxine is coming too.”

“I am?” Maxine asks just as Billy elbows her again. “Oww- Yes, I am.”

Her smiles is wide and Joyce looks between the three of them as Dustin says, “What the hell is going on here?”

Everyone ignores him as Joyce answers, “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

“Ms. Byers, we’ll be fine.” Maxine says. “We’re just going for the day. Will can call you as much as you want during the day.”

“Yeah, mom, I will, every hour if you want.” Will supplies. “Please? Can I go?”

“Wait, hold on, why exactly are we not invited?” Dustin says as Joyce ponders the request.

“Aren’t you and your mom going to Bingo that day?” Lucas asks.

“Shut up, Lucas.”

“Boys.” Joyce says before their conversation can get out of hand, she then looks to Billy and says, “Will you make sure not to let him out of your sight?”

“Promise.” Billy answers, his eyes smiling as he realizes he’s winning this conversation.

“Okay, I suppose you can go Will, as long as you don’t let him out of your sight, Billy, and you Will call be every hour on the hour.”

“Yes!” Will whispers in triumph, more to himself than anyone else.

Dustin looks between them all still confused before asking again, “What the hell is going on here?”


	17. “You Had To Be A Big Shot, Didn’t You?”

**_ January 5th 1985 _ **

“You didn’t have to come.” Billy tells Maxine for the hundredth time that day. Maxine gives him the same look that says ‘of course I did.’ Billy wants to say something clever to get her to shut up for good when Max reaches over him and hits the horn, honking loudly. “Really?”

“Come on, we have to get going, Will has to be back before dark.” Max says quite reasonably. They’re parked outside of the Byers, just getting there when Billy had asked her again if she was sure she wanted to come when she honked. Almost immediately the door opens and Will Byers runs out with one Jane Hopper behind him. They run up to the car, opening the back doors and come bounding in.

“What the hell is this?” Billy asks in exasperation as he turns back to look at the little shits. “Who invited the witch?”

“She’s a mage.” Both Max and Will say in reply as Jane simply smiles.

“I’m coming.” She says.

“Right, and this has nothing to do with Joyce and Jim wanting someone to look after Will?”

“No.” Jane tells him. “I want to get some new clothes.”

Maxine, from her spot in the passenger seat looks back with a smile. “Really? You know if you want I can help you find some stuff. Help you find your size and everything. We can figure out what you’re in too.”

Jane smiles widely, and Billy sighs. It’s forty minutes until the next town, please can they just be quiet for at least half of it, he thinks to himself as he backs out of the Byers, Joyce and Jim’s faces in the window staring at Billy in warning. Billy smiles and waves before making his way onto the main drag. Everything is relativity quiet for the next five minutes until Maxine says, “I’m bored. Let’s play I Spy.”

So much for the quiet, thinks Billy with another sigh as he reaches over for the dial. If it’s not going to be quiet, then he’s damn well listening to his tunes. Low volume of course, wouldn’t want to impede their childish games.

“I Spy with my little eye… Something orange!”

…

“Alright, we’re here.” Billy says as he parks into a parking spot in the mall lot. Everyone simultaneously unhooks their seatbelts, but before they can go running off, Billy says very sternly, “We’re sticking together. I do not need your parents on my ass, got it?”

His voice holds no room for argument as Will and Jane nod. Maxine agrees non-commutatively as she rolls her eyes. Billy takes out his keys and they all get out, making their way to the mall’s big doors.

“Okay, first things first, Will is getting a haircut.” Billy says seriously as Will shrinks back from the attention, but obviously pleased at going to the salon.

“What about you, Billy? No offense but your hair is a little uneven.” Chimes in Maxine, earning herself a glare from Billy.

“I’m getting a trim to Maxine, maybe you should to, shave off all of that fire and be a normal girl for once.”

Max doesn’t even phase at his harsh tone. “Aw come on, normal is yesterday.” She flips her hair dramatically making Jane chuckle and making Will crack a smile.

…

“So what can I do for you?” The hairdresser asks as Will steps up onto the barber’s chair. He’s smiling widely but at the question he loses the grin slightly, suddenly nervous.

“Well, Byers? What do you want?” Billy asks from his spot beside the girls who both have a magazine each.

“I- I…” Will says, pausing to think for a moment. “I want it short, slicked back like James Dean.”

He’s smiling widely, making the hairdresser smile too. “James Dean, huh? I’ll see what I can do.”

Will looks in the mirror to his friends, and both Jane and Max hold thumbs up in excitement and agreement to his choice. This makes him smile even wider as the woman wraps a bib like garment around his shoulders. “Ready?” She asks and Will nods in determination.

“Shit.” Max says a half an hour later when the hairdresser has declared Will to be finished.

“Looks good, kid.” Billy comments as Will looks into the mirror with a large grin of excitement. His hair is defiantly shorter and geld back to look similar to James Dean. He actually looks pretty handsome, but that striped shirt is throwing the look off. “Let me get trimmed and then we’ll get you some proper clothes.”

“Can I have a leather jacket?” Will asks with more confidence than Billy’s ever heard come from the kid.

“You had to be a big shot, didn’t you?” Billy says more to himself before telling Will honestly, “I don’t know about real leather, but we’ll defiantly get you something rad.”

…

“What do you guys want to eat?” Billy asks the teenagers as he looks around at the various food vendors.

“I want Chinese.” Max says with feeling.

“Burger and fries for me, please.” Will says looking up to Billy who nods in agreement.

“Me too.” Billy tells him.

“What about you, Jane, what do you want?” Max asks looking to her friend who stares wide eyed at everything.

“I’ve never had Chinese.” Jane says. “But I love pizza with extra cheese.”

“Have both.” Billy says surprising them both. “Here.” Billy hands the girls a five. “We’ll meet back at a table in ten?”

“Sure! Thanks Billy.” Max says in awe before grabbing Jane’s hand. “Come on.”

Jane smiles at the touch and follows Max willingly.

“Alright, kid, let’s go get some burgers and fries.”

“Milkshakes?” Will asks hopefully.

“Fuck yeah… Don’t tell your mom I said that.”

…

“William Alexander Byers.” Joyce says in shock as Billy walks Jane and Will up to the Byers house. The sky is rapidly darkening but he made it back before it was completely so. Will had thrown his older clothes in the shopping bag and had worn some of his newer ones, plus the black jacket that went along with his new look nicely.

“Hey, mom.” Will says, radiating happiness. “Do you like it?”

“Your hair!?”

“Rad, right?”

Joyce looks from her son up to Billy. “What-”

“Mom, it was me, okay? I wanted a new haircut.”

“But you looked so cute in your old one.”

“I like this one better.” Will insists and Billy smiles proudly as how well the kid is sticking up for himself. Joyce is defiantly surprised by his new attitude and new look, but she must see the good change there is underneath it all within Will, because she smiles, genuinely pleased.

“You look very handsome.” Joyce says and her eyes start to water. She then looks up to Billy and opens her arms. Before Billy can do anything she’s pulling him into a hug. She whispers only for him to hear, “Thank you.”

“Did you have fun?” Hopper asks Jane who smiles widely.

“I tried Chinese!” Jane says happily at her new discovery.

“Oh.” Hopper laughs. “Was it good?”

“Some of it, but I like pizza better.”

“Good to know.”

“Okay, I’ll you see kids later.” Billy says as Joyce leans away. He makes his way to the car where Maxine fell asleep. She’s still sleeping when he gets there. Hopefully she’ll wake up before he gets her home, otherwise he’ll have to carry her in. Not that he can’t do it but she might be a little mortified. She’s not a child anymore, as she keeps telling him, and is in fact a fifteen year old adult. Billy shakes his head at the thought and backs out of the Byers’. Joyce and the kids’ wave, and he finds himself waving back.

“Wha- Billy?” Maxine asks groggily as she sits up and looks around at the empty car. “Where are the others?”

“I just dropped them off, you fell asleep.” Billy supplies.

“I did?”

“Yeah and you drooled.”

“Did not!”

“Totally did.”

“Whatever. At least I don’t have snot running down my nose all the time.”

“That was time Maxine! Better than a drooler.”

“Snot nose.”

“Drooler.”

“Asshole.”

“Shithead.”


	18. “You May Be Right… I May Be Crazy.”

**_ January 11th 1985/January 12th 1985 _ **

“Hello?” Billy asks, picking up the phone. He leans it against his shoulder and takes a puff off of his cigarette. He just got off work and was watching Jerry Springer, a disaster of a show that never gets old. He grabbed some takeout from the diner downtown since he’s shit at cooking and was making a night of it. Live a little and all that.

“H- Hellllooo?” Nancy Wheeler’s voice comes in, her words slurred. Billy immediately rolls his eyes and then walks over to the kitchen table, the long white springy chord following him. He sits in a chair and throws his head back.

“What?” He asks, clearly annoyed.

“What- what if he isn’t dead, Billy? What if Steve is still out there in the stars and in the heavens?”

“Have you been drinking?”

“Shut- Shut up! I’m being sssserious.” She says loudly, making Billy wince and pull the phone away from his ear briefly.

“He’s dead. We buried him.” Billy says as he reaches over for the bottle of rum he keeps on the kitchen cupboard in case of emergencies. This is an emergency.

“No- no- no- no- no wait. Nooooo.”

“Listen, Nancy, I’m- I’m sorry about your mom but she’s gone too now. You have to pull yourself together, and think about your brother and sister.”

Billy takes a long sip of rum and shudders. When did he become some sort of advice expert? When did this become his job? _Since Steve died and someone had to fill the role._ A voice from somewhere deep admits, making Billy drink even more rum, using the beer to wash the harsh taste down.

“I have work tomorrow.” Billy says into the seemingly empty line. “I have to go.”

“WAIT!” Nancy says even more loudly, making Billy physical rub his ear in hopes of easing the pain there now. “I saw him Billy, didn’t you?”

Billy freezes, the phone hanging there loosely.

“You did, didn’t you!?” Nancy says almost happily. “I’m crazy. You- You are defiantly crrrrazzzzyyyyy.”

“You may be right…” Billy says his words becoming thick with emotion. “I may be crazy.”

He walks over and hangs up the phone before Nancy can say anything else.

…

His head has been ringing all day and maybe it’s the rum he drank last night but he knows better. He wishes it would just stop, he wishes it would all just stop and if he could maybe he’d do it himself. Put a hammer to his head should put it back in order, right? It’s like Neil has given him a gift that keeps on giving. When will he be free? When will his hold be gone? The sad truth is probably never, he doesn’t think this consciously it’s more like a feeling. Distant pictures that form a horrible truth.

“Hey, Billy.” Maxine says as she appears seemingly out of nowhere in the shop. Billy’s working on a mom’s van at the moment. The mom needs it back ASAP because she has ten kids and she to drive them everywhere due to her no nonsense husband or whatever. Billy really got an earful from her when she dropped it off today. It did nothing to help the ringing he hears and slight pain that radiates every time there’s too much noise but he’s a professional so he simply nodded along to her words until she finally and thankfully left.

“What are you doing here, Maxine?” Billy asks as he grabs a wrench from a workbench nearby. He gets back under the hood as Maxine watches him curiously.

“Bored, but also Will’s having his birthday party in a couple of weeks.”

“And why should I care?”

“It would mean a lot to him if you came.” Max tells him with hopeful eyes.

“Oh yeah, a grown man going to a kid’s birthday party. That makes sense.” Billy says with sarcasm, making Max roll her eyes. “Is this the last of the birthdays for you guys?”

“Until after summer, yeah.”

“So, fifteen?”

“Fifteen.” Max confirms.

“He’s the youngest? I’m not surprised.” Billy says more to himself.

“Please, would you just come? After we went to the mall he talks about you all the time. You’re like his role model.” Billy scoffs at that. “If Jonathan was here he’d be jealous that he’s being replaced as big brother of the year.”

“I’m no one’s brother.” Billy snaps as he looks up to Max’s hurt filled eyes. She leans back, looking down and Billy for some fucking reason feels guilty. So much so that he says, “Fine. I’ll go.”

Max looks up with a big smile on her face, a winning smile, and Billy thinks maybe just maybe he was being played.

…

“Hi, how can I help you?” Billy asks a few hours later, after Maxine has left. Usually old man Rogers does the intake but he’s out today with some kind of sickness. He’s always out lately.

“My car’s breaks are a bit spongy.” The slightly older man says. He has short brown hair and piercing green eyes. He’s taller than Billy and wears a business suit. A freaking business suit. “I’m just passing through and I still got another few hours on the road so I was wondering if you could quickly check them.” He smiles slightly as he finishes speaking.

“I could squeeze you in.” Billy tells him as he fills out an intake form on in front of him.

“I’m sure that’s not the only place you could squeeze me.”

Billy looks up sharply and the guy only keeps on smiling.

“What do I look like to you?” Billy asks him in a dangerous voice.

The other looks him over up and down, smirking as he’s done. “A top who needs to destress. I could help you with that.”

Billy nods, smiling, making the other guy smile too before, rather abruptly Billy has him by the collar of his monkey suit. He brings him close with a sneer and watches in satisfaction as the guy looks terrified. Billy’s smirk widens at this as he tells him, “If you don’t get your faggot ass out of here in the next five seconds I’m going to make sure that no one will want to touch that pretty face of yours ever again. Understand?”

The guy nods hurriedly.

“Good.” Billy says and let’s go of him. He falls to the ground in a heap but quickly scrambles to his feet and runs out of the shop, his tail between his legs.

Billy watches him go with a certain sense of satisfaction before the ringing in his head becomes more intense. He grimaces, placing his hand to the side of his head and rides out the wave of pain as best as he can. As soon as it’s bearable he goes into the shop’s small kitchen to search for some spare painkillers. The bottle always says only two, but it takes at least three to do the trick for this kind of pain.


	19. "It Just May Be A Lunatic You're Looking For."

**_ January 23rd 1985 _ **

Billy’s not really sure what wakes him up, it could be his full bladder or the wind outside that blows insistently in January in Hawkins, he found out last year, or it could be the sudden cold air that surrounds him and chokes him. He’s not sure which of these incidents it is but the most glaring is the full bladder. He’s half asleep too so when he shrugs the covers off and starts shivering, he barely pays any mind to it, all his attention on getting to the bathroom and emptying himself. The lights are off and it’s dark, but outside the moon is big and it reflects off of the white sheet of snow that they got. It leaves a trail of silver into his eyes and into his room, then hallway, enough for him to find where he’s going and to get there in one piece, but that is the easy part.

A clang is sounded throughout the small bathroom as he lifts up the toilet seat and pushes his pants down. The whishing of pee coming out is almost euphoric. He really had to go, but just as it starts to trail down the small light he flicked on, flicks off. Billy’s bones seize and his heart beats louder. He looks around and sees nothing. His first thought is then that wind blew a power line down and the power just went out, but as suddenly as that thought comes, the lights flick on again.

“What the…” Billy manages to say through the pounding of his veins. He looks around as he tries to urge himself to pee faster so he can get the hell out of there. He’s freaked out, but the funny thing is, he’s not scared, just freaked out. He finishes and pulls up his pants, shutting the toilet lid and making his way to the sink quickly. The lights turn off again. There’s a pause as Billy stops, frozen in his feet before the lights turn on again. They turn off, two long pauses, then on again. It pauses and then again. All different intervals, all different amounts of time. Billy thinks about a short, but this- this isn’t that. This is unnatural. This is not normal.

Afraid and vulnerable in a way he’s never really known, despite what he’s been through, Billy, with a shaky voice asks into the seemingly empty room, “Steve?”

He fully expects the lights to turn off again, but they don’t. They don’t move at all. They stay turned on and Billy is left standing there, confused and with a yearning for something, someone that is supposed to be long gone. Part of him wants to run, but the other part of him wants to stay and wait. A hope flickers in him like those lights did and he finds himself leaning against the bathroom wall and sitting down onto the floor. His eyes are trained onto the light, bright and overbearing, but he doesn’t care. He stares on and waits. For what? For a sign, for something, and for anything.

Steve never gave up on him, why should he give up on Steve?

…

_“Billy?” Steve asks impossibly gently while also sounding scared. Scared of what Billy is going to do and maybe even scared of the truth._

_Billy turns, his eyes ugly with tears that don’t quite fall like they’re supposed to. They just come out, no sobs and no outward cry. He’s learned to be quiet and to take it all in stride. The last time he truly cried was as a child when he found his mother, and that was the last time._

_“Billy?” Steve repeats, his hand comes out to touch Billy but before he can Billy is turning away. They’re both sitting on the downstairs bed, beside each other but nothing more, and it’s been far too long since they’ve been like this. They just got out of the hospital and Billy was fine, until he wasn’t, but Steve doesn’t go. He stays and he sits with Billy all night, even after Billy says simply with a love he doesn’t want to feel, “He was my dad.”_

…

He doesn’t know how long he stays there like that, sitting on the cold tiles and staring but it must be a while, because the phone has not stopped ringing. There’s been a least ten phone calls and Billy has ignored each and every one. The phone is all the way downstairs and Billy needs to stay here. He needs to stay and wait. He needs the light to flick off and then on again. He needs the confirmation that he’s not going crazy and that the familiar presence he feels is indeed _Steve._ But after a while hope fades and he starts to think that maybe it was a dream. The memory fades into something dreamlike and as much as he wants to stay here, maybe whatever happened won’t happen again. Steve wouldn’t want him to sit here forever. He’d want him to get on with his life.

But Steve is dead.

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

Billy can’t take it anymore. He stands quickly and rushes out of the bathroom, down the stairs and to the kitchen. He takes the phone off of the hook quickly and answers gruffly and tiredly, “Hello?”

“It’s about time, Billy!” Max says over the receiver, breathless and annoyed. “Where the hell are you? It’s Will’s birthday. You were supposed to bring the pizza.”

“What- What time is it?” He asks, but his eyes are already drifting to the big clock above the sink. The big hand is on the two and the little hand is on five. He’s been sitting in the bathroom all night?

“Jesus, Billy, are you drunk?”

“I wish.”

“What?” Max asks confused, then more concerned, “Is everything okay? Please tell me you’re not watching that lunatic on cable again while drinking. Last time you did that you-”

“Max, you said we wouldn’t talk about that again.” Billy’s voice is dangerously low. Max doesn’t know this but he wasn’t only drinking. Mixing stuff never goes well and he should have known better but it was a week after- After _Steve._ “It just may be a lunatic you’re looking for, anyway.”

“Wait, what? What’s going on, Billy?”

“Nothing, forget it. Tell the Byers' kid I’ll be over later.”

Billy doesn’t wait for her to answer, he’s already hanging up the phone.


	20. “This Is The Time To Remember, Because It May Not Last Forever.”

**_ February 4th 1985/February 5th 1985 _ **

“You alright there, Billy?” Old man Gary asks him as Billy presses his hand to the crown of his head. He’s been at work for less than an hour when the headache set in. They’ve been getting worse and worse as the weeks go on, but a few Advil usually does the trick. Although he is going to have to start buying it by the case soon in order to keep up with this constant pain.

“Fine.” Billy says with a nod and a smile that’s dripping in pain. With his hand still on his head he walks over to the far side and into the supply drawer. He rummages around until he finds the Advil bottle and pops three into his mouth. He has a cup of coffee nearby that he’s been nursing since he got here, and now he uses it to swallow the pills. It will take a few minutes to kick in unfortunately, but he can wait.

“You know, son, if those headaches are bothering you so much you might want to see the Doc about it.”

Billy looks up to Gary and gives him his best smile. It’s full of sarcasm but Gary’s eyesight isn’t so good and he never takes Billy’s attitude too seriously so he ignores it. He simply waives him off and makes his way to his office, calling behind him, “Make sure you get that engine fixed. Mrs. Lance is coming in at three to pick it up.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

…

_“Steve?” He hears his own voice call for him, but Billy isn’t moving his lips. He isn’t talking and he isn’t thinking. He simply stands there and stares at the darkness of the doorway. It leads to stairs that lead to a basement where blood was stored. Blood collected from a monster that used his man’s face. “Steve?”_

_Steve isn’t here, he’s dead, Billy knows this so why is he staring into the blackness and seeing him. No, seeing isn’t the right word, it’s more like a feeling, a sixth sense that grows out from him. He feels it with hands that aren’t hands. He feels him wrapped inside him with arms that aren’t arms, but he’s physically not here. He’s physically not close. He’s down there. At the bottom of the stairs._

_“Steve?”_

Billy sits up with a start. He looks around his room as the sheets and blankets pool around his waist. His bare chest heaves in heavy breaths as he looks all around in the darkness of the very early morning. He expects to see Steve right there or to feel him but what he finds is nothing. The dream is distorted now, rippling into his brain as the images disappear. The only thing remaining is the certainty that Steve is at the bottom of the stairs. What stairs? What basement? Where? Who? Steve. But why? He doesn’t understand. All he knows is there’s a pull, a tug in his heart and a whisper of a voice long gone telling him to look and to find him. He is lost. They both are.

Billy feels stupid doing it but he can’t help but ask into the dark of his room, “Steve?”

There’s no reply, of any kind.

Billy’s shoulders drop in disappointment and rehashed pain. Of course he’s not here. Steve is dead. Billy tells himself again and again until he almost believes it. It’s getting harder to convince himself though and right now that tug won’t disappear. He feels hypnotized, compulsed, and forced to get up. To look. To find. But he doesn’t do what other’s tell him, never has, aside from Neil, (never will again), so he ignores it and lays back into bed. He turns to his side and closes his eyes. He needs the rest. Tomorrow he has to take the little shits to an R rated movie. Yippy.

_“Billy.”_

Billy closes his eyes ever the more tightly.

…

They go and see the movie ‘The New Kids’ as soon as Billy saw the title screen he rolled his eyes. He knew this was going to be awful and he told the kids as well, although they’re more teenagers than kids now. They are in their last year of middle school, but as soon as he said something Dustin had to say something smart and pretty soon Maxine had to step in the middle and get them to shut up them all up. Now they sit in the movie theatre and Billy is fighting the urge to light up a smoke.

“Shit.” Dustin half whispers as the kid gets murdered. Billy laughs which is the wrong thing to do because before he knows it Dustin is fighting to get out of the seat isle. He runs down and out the door, slamming it behind him and leaving enough light for Billy to see the tears in his eyes.

“Dammit.” Lucas whispers.

“Well?” Maxine says to him, her hand in his. “Aren’t you going to go after him?”

“I’ll go.” Billy says before he can respond. Everyone looks at him strangely except for Jane who seems relieved.

A guy above them shushes loudly and Billy gives him the middle finger in response before making his way out the door and following Dustin’s trail. It doesn’t take him long to find him. He sits in the empty lobby, his back against a wall and his legs wrapped in his arms. Billy walks over and sits next to him, giving him enough space that he can move or leave if he wants to. Dustin doesn’t though, instead he sniffles and wipes away the tears as best as he can with his shirt sleeve.

Despite strict laws in the theatre, Billy takes out a cigarette and lights it. “What’s going on, kid?”

“Nothing.” Dustin says quickly.

“Sure. Look, you can either tell me or I send Lucas in here and Maxine.”

“Fine. That fucking guy he- he looked like Steve, okay? And he died just like he did. He’s dead and he’s never coming back. His best friend will never be happy again. It’s not fair. I hate this movie.”

It all comes out in one big mouthful. Billy freezes as he speaks but after he’s done Billy takes a puff of his smoke before saying, “I know it sucks, but you can’t stop living your fucking life, Dustin.”

Dustin looks up sharply. “Is that what you do?”

“This with your friends is called fun and you should enjoy it. This is the time to remember, because it may not last forever. You’ll be in high school soon and before you know it off to college. You might never get these moments back. This is all you have. So stop fucking crying and laugh instead.” Billy says some of the words harshly, but he’s not angry at Dustin and Dustin is smart for his age. All the kids are, and he knows right away what Billy is really trying to say. “Now do you want to finish watching this crappy movie, or what?”

Dustin nods.

“Good.” Billy says as he snubs out his cigarette on the shag carpet that hasn’t been changed in ten years. “Because I didn’t even get to have any skittles. Fucking Lucas was hogging them.”

Billy gets up as Dustin finally cracks a smile and quickly follows him back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always welcome and appreciated. :)


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